


Learning to Fly

by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose, Hollowg1rl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 09:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 64,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14054319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdraconis/pseuds/corvusdraconis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_and_the_Rose/pseuds/Dragon_and_the_Rose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollowg1rl/pseuds/Hollowg1rl
Summary: [HG/SS] AU: When Hermione was born, her parents knew she was special, but they didn't realise how special until she crafted her own pair of wings and glued them onto her back— and they worked. Her sisters, Lily and Petunia, think their sister is a freak, and they try to break her, starting with her wings. NC/EWE/Completely right out of my arse





	1. If Wishes were Wings

**A/N:** 2 hour commutes suck, but this is where I got the inspiration.

 **Beta Love:**  The Long-Sufferer-of-Me-Dragon and the Rose, the Abused-and-Tired-Dutchgirl01, and the Dominator-of-Assassin's-Creed-Commander Shepard

* * *

**Spiders:** _No money being made disclaimer here!_

* * *

**Learning to Fly**

_The man who has no imagination has no wings._

Muhammad Ali

When Hermione's parents had her, they knew she was special, but when she read a book called  _Mail Order Wings_  she had to, of course, make her own pair.

She'd worked on them for weeks, measuring them and crafting each of the structures, under structures, over structures… then she pressed the feathers she'd collected from the local farmers during the mold until she had just the right number _._ Library books from grates far above her age scattered on the floor of her room— books on birds, anatomy, muscles, flight structures— and Hermione insisted on going to the zoo to see them in real life, trying to decide which bird had the best wingspan to deal with the weight of a human.

While her sisters were most concerned with tea parties and dresses, he followed around a zoologist for an entire week, helping them with feeding and cleaning in exchange for information. The zookeepers were more than happy to have her around, seeing her as the zoologist of the future or some great doctor of veterinary science.

Hermione knew the bone names, the locations, the difference between the terminal phalanx and the basal phalanx. She could spell carpometacarpus and show you where it was. She crafted each bone using polymer clay and even hollowed them out and made spongy bone structures inside before putting them back together again. She learned all the muscle groups and carved them out of clay, using her mum's pins to score each group and her father's patterned ties to press texture into the clay— much to her father's chagrin.

The wings worked, mostly. They moved. They flapped. They just couldn't carry her aloft. Aloft was what she wanted, but alas— they did everything  _BUT_ fly.

Yet, when Hermione won the zoo's scholarship to an outstanding prep-school with her project, her parents forgave her for cutting up the curtains, getting clay on her father's expensive ties, and using all of her mum's silk pins for sticking things that silk pins were  _not_ made to stick. The rift between herself and her sisters, however, grew ever wider and vast as they realised Hermione was nothing like  _them_.

In a fit of jealousy and spite, Petunia and Lily took her wings to school with them, claiming they meant to show them off, but the teachers found them smashed and broken in the dirt just before a devastated Hermione stumbled upon them, painstakingly gathered them up in a box, and ran from school in tears.

"Freak, freak, you're a freak. Freak, freak, you're a freak!" the two sisters chanted as the girl fled.

* * *

"Are those your wings?" a soft voice asked as Hermione looked up to see a thin, pale boy looking at her from his perch on the limb of a tree. He wore strangely oversized clothes that didn't quite fit him… in fact, his ill-fitting ensemble looked strange on him in general, like the clothes weren't really his at all.

Hermione, sniffling, found she couldn't speak— and in fact when she tried, nothing came out. She burst into tears again, and didn't stop until the boy sat by her, gently touching the broken wings, petting the feathers.

"Who did it?" the boy asked quietly.

Hermione frowned, still sniffling.

"Family, huh? I know the feeling," the boy said, a flicker of dark anger showing in his solemn black eyes, and Hermione's vivid green eyes seemed to flash. Her own bottled up anger caused her curls to writhe, moving on its own.

"You're a  _ **witch**_ ," he breathed, awed.

Hermione's head jerked up, and she gritted her teeth. Anger— rage like nothing he'd seen on the face of his father— made her eyes seem to glow like will-o-wisps.

"No," the boy quickly explained. "A  _real_ one. There are witches and there are wizards. Magical people. I'm a wizard. You're just like me…  _special_."

Hermione looked like she was trying very hard to say something, but no sound came out. The boy looked at her carefully, his inky brows furrowing.

"I'm Severus," he said a little shyly.

She told him her name, but it came out silent, yet it didn't seem like she realised it was.

Severus watched her mouth carefully. "Her— my— oh— knee?" he pronounced carefully.

Hermione nodded.

"Maybe we can fix these, huh?" he said, pulling them out of the box. He soothed the feathers as he looked at her.

Hermione looked down, fighting back tears again. Her tears splashed down on his hand as he reached to touch them. Warmth, a sensation unlike anything Hermione had ever felt before suddenly flooded through her, and as she looked at Severus—

She knew he felt the same feelings.

 _You're a freak!_ She saw an older man— the same pitch black hair. The same beaky nose.  _A freak boy from a freak mother. You should have killed her on the way out._

 _Freak! Freak! You're nothing but a pathetic little freak!_ Her older sisters screamed out the hateful words, pointing and laughing at her as she carried her broken wings away with her, clutching her box as hot tears streamed down her face.

 _I just want to run away!_  Their voices cried out together.  _Somewhere far away from—them!_

A bright, brilliant flash of light blazed as the two children were caught in a pillar of white light that seemed to either come from below or perhaps rained down from above. The wings, that had lain broken and twisted leapt up in the light and emitted golden light down on the pair. The dazzling light filled them both to bursting, and it came pouring out of their eyes, nose, mouth, fingertips—

_**Baa-SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!** _

The small, rubbish-littered park with one very sad-looking willow was overcome by a supernova of magic that blew throughout the entire town of Cokeworth, causing the power to go out everywhere and the utter blackness of night to completely consume the area.

* * *

_**Monster Rises Up From Lake!** _

_**Hunt for Missing Child Cut Short by Chaos** _

_Panic and mayhem descended on Cokeworth last night when a freak power outage had Mrs Bernice Nutter screaming to any who would listen that Godzilla had risen from the lake and a rogue unicorn had killed her grandmother. Others claimed they had witnessed the arrival of alien invaders, that savage hellhounds were killing their sheep, while some others swore that a giant glowing moth-beast was eating the pollution coming out of the smokestacks in town._

_When dawn arrived, power still hadn't been fully restored, and the desperate search by the Evans family for their missing 9-year-old daughter, Hermione Jean Evans, had been overcast by frantic townspeople flooding the emergency lines with wild tales of "monsters" allegedly attacking Cokeworth._

_[Photo of Mr and Mrs Evans looking grief-stricken as two older daughters have their arms crossed and wearing angry expressions]_

_Any information regarding the possible whereabouts of Hermione Jean Evans should be called into the local constabulary._

* * *

_**Town Drunk Says Nikes Stole His Booze** _

_Luther Stonebelt caused a ruckus this evening that had people calling in to authorities about his constant wailing._

" _Nikes stole me beer!" he proclaimed._

" _Luther's always been a few sarnies short of a picnic," one local said, "but this is the first time he's blamed it on a ruddy Greek myth."_

_Authorities have gone over copious amounts of CCTV footage and say there was nothing more than a particularly fierce gust of wind just as Mr Stonebelt's beer went flying out of his hands._

" _They were nikes!" Luther hissed insistently, with the unmistakable odor of liquor on his breath._

_Any further reports of ancient Greek winged goddesses stealing beer have so far been limited to to the Cokeworth area._

* * *

Hermione perched on the branch, wings slightly spread as she looked down upon the open upstairs window. "That's your home?"

"Was," Severus corrected, his lips twisted in a dark scowl that made him look much older. He wrapped one wing around her. "Are you cold?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not when you're here."

The boy smiled at her, just a small tug of his lips that seemed to her like a broad grin. "I'll always be here for you," he promised.

"Always is a long time," Hermione said, her eyes haunted, the pain of her sister's betrayal still fresh and jagged.

He looked at her, squeezing her hand. "I really mean it, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip but nodded. "Do you  _have_ to go in there?"

"I need something from there," he said. "Then we can go, I promise. Far away from here."

Hermione nodded, folding her wings carefully as she sat down on the branch. "Be careful."

Severus plucked a leaf and it transformed into a soft cloak. He lay it around her shoulders to keep her warm. "I'll be back soon."

He jumped into the air and glided down to the housing district and the open window that beckoned him to him like a moth to a flame.

* * *

Severus landed on the window and crawled in. The summer heat in Cokeworth was beyond insufferable, but it seemed strangely chill to him now. The further he went from Hermione's side, the colder it seemed. Before, he was always either too hot or too cold. There was never an in-between, but something had happened when they had touched. Her tears upon his skin had triggered something utterly profound— far more than just the wings upon their backs.

Yet what that thing was, he wasn't sure. He just knew he had to get her out of Cokeworth. They  _both_ needed to go.

Hermione had tried to return home, only to find that her older sisters had completely gutted her room and were fighting over her stuff. Her beloved books were burned in the fire as her sisters giggled together in glee. It had broken something in her, and Severus had recognised it instantly. No matter  _how_ much she loved her parents— they would never understand why she had run away. Why she would even consider it a viable option.

And her sisters already hated her with a passion that went beyond words. What room was there for a winged child in a family such as that?

No matter how much he still loved his mother, Severus' burning hatred for his drunkard father was much more powerful. There would never be peace, never be happiness in that house, more so while he remained there.

But he couldn't leave without at least saying goodbye to his mother. She would at least understand why he had to go. His father— would just pile even more reasons on why Severus should've died at birth.

As he crept into his room, he picked up his tattered rucksack and threw the few things he actually liked into it. His favourite book, his grandmother's old hairbrush, the little stone-inlaid box he had hidden under his bed, a small plush dragon that his mother had given him for his fifth birthday, and a scrap of cloth that had a bloodstain on it— his reminder of the first time he'd said no to his father and had the shite beaten out of him. He tucked those and his odds and ends into the bag and threw it over his shoulder.

He walked carefully down the hall, listening intently. Sounds seemed so much clearer now— he heard his father's drunken snores coming from downstairs, where he inevitably passed out on the couch. He slipped into his parents' bedroom.

"Severus?" his mother whispered, sitting straight up in bed.

Before he knew it, her thin arms were around him, holding him tightly.

"Severus, I thought you were…" she looked at him and then saw his wings. "Oh, Severus… that's why you didn't come home."

Severus tried to say something, but she looked at him like he was barely whispering to her..

His mother shook her head, placing her hand to his lips. She pried open a loose board on the floor and pulled out a box, shoving it into his hands. "Take this. Be careful, Severus. Please." She hugged him fiercely, placing a kiss on his forehead. She put the box into his back and with a gesture, sealed his bag with a silent spell.

Suddenly, the door flung open, and Tobias took his son by the throat and shoved him into the dresser with a crack. "Came back, boy?" His ugly yellow teeth were bared at him. "What did you do to yourself eh, Boy? Finally look like the bloody freak you are?"

He clenched his hand around the boy's throat.

" _ **Tobias! NO!"**_

Tobias swiftly backhanded his wife, sending Eileen flying across the room. She struck the wall, sliding down to lay still and unconscious on the floor.

Severus struggled in his father's iron grip, but he was still small, and Tobias had the deep-seated drunken wrath he had used to fuel his unreasoning hatred of his wife and son.

_**Kracka-cracka-BOOM!** _

Glass shattered as the entire window was smashed in, and a blur of honey banded wings swooped in to slam forcefully into Tobias, sending the drunken man sprawling and knocking Severus free. He staggered away, choking and gasping for air.

Tobias whirled and seized Hermione by the throat with both hands. "Another little freak. eh? You relying on girls to save you now, whelp? Not even man enough to protect yourself?"

He crushed Hermione's slender throat, and her eyes began to glow a fierce, unearthly green. A sound came from her throat— unlike anything human. A bay. A howl. A scream. It was there and yet everywhere as well.

The floor of the house trembled, and dark tendrils rose up from every crack like smoke. The smell of fire and brimstone filled the air as the darkness moved across every wall like the fingers of dead trees moving closer, ever closer.

Multiple dark shapes rose from the floor, shaped like dogs but so much more not-dog in character. Dark, pointed spines like the blades of a saw rose from their backs. They had eerily skull-like faces with fires burning inside their eyes and mouths dripping with magma and breathing black smoke mixed with flame.

Tobias' eyes went wide as fluid dripped down his legs. "Wut? What dark magic is this? You make it stop!  _ **YOU MAKE IT STOP!"**_

He slammed Hermione into the wall over and over, and her glowing eyes remained fixed on him, filled with the exact opposite of what he wanted to see. Fear had been replaced by raw, protective fury.

The pack of Gwyllgi snarled and and leapt upon him, tearing him to pieces, soul tatter by soul tatter, leaving his body as filthy but as intact as it ever was.

When the body of Tobias Snape went still, breathing but staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, the Gwyllgi walked up to Hermione and whined, pressing their muzzles into her hands for pets. Some of them nuzzled Severus, helping him stand up.

The pack waited.

Hermione's hands slowly caressed the beasts' heads, her eyes blinking as her face became less blank— less instinctive. She looked down and swallowed. She went to Severus, stumbling. "Severus."

He staggered but stood, rubbing his throat with his hands. "Hermione, are you okay?" His eyes grew wide as he realised he was uncosciously petting one of the Gwyllgi. He gave Hermione a look that was all questions with a chaser of concern.

 _You called to us, we come._  The voices said around them all at once, united like a choir with layers upon layers.

"What do we call you?" Hermione asked.

 _Yours_ , the Gwyllgi replied.  _Long we have waited to answer the Call. Your pain we will soothe. Your ire we shall serve. Your favour, we shall drink and be strong._

_Your enemies we shall devour._

_Your friends we shall always remember._

Severus took Hermione into his arms, hugging her with his wings before he noticed his mother and quickly ran to her side, his fingers on her neck to check for a pulse. "She's alive. What do we do?"

Hermione looked at Tobias, her green eyes as cold as ice. "We should get her out of here."

 _We can,_  one of the beasts said.

"Who are you?"

 _I am Haydn,_ it said, pushing its head against her hand.

"You can take her somewhere safe? Somewhere— like a hospital?"

The beast tilted its head.  _If you wish it._

Severus gave his mother a worried look before looking back at Hermione. She nodded to him. "Please, take her safely to a hospital."

The beasts surrounded Eileen Snape.  _As you desire._

They disappeared with her in a poof of black smoke.

"What about him," Hermione asked, her fist clenching.

Severus pulled his bag over his shoulder and held out his hand. "Let's go, Hermione. Leave him. They'll find him when they figure out who my mother is."

Hermione gave Tobias one last, hateful look. "Okay." She allowed Severus' hand to clasp hers and drag her to the hole she had made in the side of the house. They both launched into the air, leaving Cokeworth behind them.

* * *

_**Tobias Snape Found Catatonic After Wife Mysteriously Appears at Local Hospital in Critical Condition** _

_Mr Tobias Snape was found staring up at the ceiling with no wounds or other obvious injuries on his person. His body was found by police when they were performing a wellness check after his wife, Eileen Snape appeared seemingly out of nowhere at a local hospital in Cokeworth. Her condition is critical, her body bearing evidence of multiple healing injuries as well as the newest ones to her head that are presumed to be from her husband._

_As to how Mr Snape ended up in a catatonic state, there is some suspicion that he may have had a stroke or some some sort of severe seizure, but the assessment of his condition is still ongoing. One thing, however, is certain. Should he return to consciousness, he will be facing multiple counts of spousal abuse, and, should his wife not survive treatment— murder._

* * *

Severus stared off into the distance as they sat on a branch together. His face was schooled into a very sharp scowl, and Hermione looked down at her lap.

"Do you hate me?"

Severus startled. He wrapped a wing around her. "Why would you ask me that? No, of course not."

"I hurt your father," she said quietly.

"He deserved it," he replied. "And more— so  _much_ more." He pulled an apple out from his backpack and handed it to her. "You need to eat."

"So do you."

"This one is for you," he insisted.

"You take a bite too," she said.

Severus huffed. "Fine," he said, taking a bite and swallowing. " _Now_  will you eat it?"

Hermione nodded sinking her teeth into the fruit hungrily. She whittled it down to half and then gave it back to him, giving him a look.

He frowned at her, but she gave him the eye.

Despite his scowl, he accepted the other half and ate it hungrily. She smiled at him despite her growling stomach.

Severus held out his hand. "Come, let's get a bit deeper into the forest. There should be wild berries this time of year. Mum would sometimes get some for me when da was away."

Hermione nodded silently and together they took wing, flying deeper into the forest and away from the town and the people within. They followed the river upstream, dipping down sometimes to splash and chase each other, experimenting on how fast they could go, turn, or lose the other.

Finally, they landed, laughing with exhaustion, dipping their hands to scoop the water into their mouths— clear and cool thanks to being so deep in the forest and away from the local towns.

The Gwyllgi moved in the shadows, giving barks and tail wags as they found something for them.

Severus smiled, gesturing her over. "They found some ripe berries for us!"

Hermione rushed over, flomping playfully into his back. She giggled. "Sorry."

He gave her a stern look, but the tug of a smile was on his mouth.

They picked the ripe blackberries, happily devouring the bush clean before they looked at each other with a little embarrassment. Thankfully, many more brambles surrounded them, and many future meals seemed to await their eager attention.

The forest floor seemed to favour them, and the leaves and moss were a thick carpet for two young winged children who had managed to wrangle themselves through one very, very long day.

Severus plucked a leaf, and his magic turned it into a soft blanket. He placed it over Hermione before curling up next to her, closing his eyes. It wasn't long before her magic made the blanket much larger, and she cast it over Severus too, cuddling up next to him and tucking her wings against him as his curved around hers.

As their eyes closed, the Gwyllgi settled in all around them, filling in the spaces and laying their warm bodies up against the sleeping children.

* * *

Days passed into weeks, and they moved from place to place in the deep woods, putting their heads together to find shelter and teaching themselves magic to make time go by faster. Fire was never a problem with the Gwyllgi around them. They could start anything aflame, if they so chose, but they had to be reminded not to set the entire forest on fire.

Severus seemed to think that moving further south would be good, where the weather would stay warmer longer, and Hermione was of the mind to migrate south as it got colder just like the geese did. But they still tired easily, even as they practiced flying every day. Their wings were just not strong enough yet to carry them the longer distances.

Then, as the weather turned cool and the leaves to change, another concern sent terror into the winged children: gunfire.

The first gunshot sent a frantic Hermione plowing into Severus as he was gathering water for their canteens, and he found himself with an armful of trembling young witch.

"We're going to have to be more careful in the day," he said. "Travel at night."

The Gwyllgi seemed to sense the change as well, and they stayed with the two more often, wandering less and protecting more. From time to time, the Gwyllgi would bring down a deer or some other sort of wild game, and the children had to learn what to do about it. Hermione discovered that if she took the meat and laid it out on Haydn, it would cook and dry in just a few minutes, and now venison jerky was being made to fill Severus' pack and fill their bellies.

Hermione just wished she had a  _real_ knife— not that flint-napping wasn't exciting in its own way. She had read lots of books on the subject. Her skill itself was a little sad, however.

One night, they stumbled across a deer carcass, and they approached nervously, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. Yet, the animal seemed well and truly dead but— the body stank. They saw a few arrows in it and the antlers were gone— well, no the  _head_ was gone. The rest was clearly left to rot with a knife discarded and stuck into the side

The two exchanged glances and carefully pulled out the knife. The meat itself was unusable— gone for much too long in the unforgiving elements, but they cleaned the blade and used a piece of rawhide to make a safe sheath to carry it in.

Later, they found an old fishing net with a rusty old pocket-knife tangled up in it, and Severus took it, using a rough rock to clean off the rust and try to work some sharpness back into it. His father had many a knife and whetstone back home, which was way his mother rarely said anything to him and why Severus had not fought back against the abuse— both of them knew that if Tobias got angry enough, he'd have shanked them both in their sleep with no compunction.

Experiments on rocks created a new whetstone for Severus, and he happily made good use of it, both of them quite relieved that magic was working for them instead of against. Still, winter was coming, and they were still unable to fly very far. Fast, oh yes. Far? No, not really.

More time passed, and they were getting better. Their wings got stronger, their teamwork more in tune. Their bond to the gwyllgi seemed to strengthen as well, and the dark dogs seemed to pop in and out more leisurely instead of paranoidly packing around them like at a moment's notice they might need them and they not be there to help.

The nuts were perfect now, and it lured them high into the trees to fight the squirrels for their fair share of the hazelnuts and other autumn goodies. Fortunately for them but not-so-great for the squirrels, they had wings.

"They're cursing at us in squirrel-ese," Hermione said as she filled her woven basket with nuts.

"Probably," Severus said, contemplating shaking the branch to make the indignant squirrel stop.

They sat together on a thicker branch, eating the leaf-wrapped berries they had picked earlier.

"You two are pretty hard to find," a kindly voice said.

The two children jerked and looked up to see a young woman with a kind face staring at them, her wings swinging as the branch she was on bowed up and down.

They stared back at her, their eyes very wide.

And stared at her.

Annnnnd stared at her some more.

"I'm Amelia," she said.

"You can fly too," Severus said, disbelief written clear in the arch of his eyebrows.

"Obviously," she said cheerfully. She tossed them something, and they nimbly caught it.

"A pear!" Hermione squealed, sniffing it fondly.

"It looks funny. Round."

"I bet they taste  _ **great!**_ "

"They dfo," Amelia said, her own mouth full of pear.

The children tore into them, getting juice everywhere.

Amelia watched them, especially how the girl tucked one wing protectively around the boy's slim waist and he curled one around her back, keeping in constant physical contact.

"I'm Hermione," the girl said gratefully. "Thanks for the pear!"

She elbowed the boy.

"Severus," he said, frowning at Hermione rather sternly. She smiled back at him, kicking her legs as they sat on the branch.

"You know, I normally like to go through more of an interview process before offering jobs, but I've already seen you two surviving out here on your own in the woods at the age of nine," the woman said. "How about coming to work for me, hrm? You'd get to stay together, yet have a chance to meet other magicals like yourselves, no longer suffer with grumbling tummies, even apprentice with a good friend of mine, and eventually attend school at Hogwarts when you are old enough."

"We could do all that?" they asked together.

"Of course you could," Amelia replied. "I'm the boss!"

The pair exchanged glances. "Wait, you can  _hear_ us!"

Amelia smiled. "Where I work, they'll all be able to."

Hermione whispered to Severus.

"That would be acceptable," he said for them both.

"Well, let's start off with a hot meal, a warm bath, and a good night's sleep in a real bed, hrm? We can iron out the rest after the top three things have been dealt with, yes?"

They nodded to her.

"Wait," Hermione said.

"Yes?" Amelia asked.

"Do you like dogs?"

Amelia smiled. "They can come too."

Hermione's eyes went comically wide. "She  _must_ be psychic!" she whispered to Severus.

Severus shrugged. "She's a witch."

Hermione put her hand in Severus'. "Okay. We'll go with you."

Amelia nodded with a warm smile. "Excellent." She tossed Severus his worn rucksack, and he caught it with wide eyes.

Severus leaned in to Hermione's ear. "She  _IS_ psychic."

Amelia chuckled.

* * *

Kingsley sat quietly watching the two new additions to the DoM family, carefully staying far enough away not to be oppressive and allowing them to explore their new home.

Trust, he knew, was a hard won thing for children such as them— Wishkin.

Most of the other beings seated in the DoM were Wishkin— children who, at some point in their young lives, had their lives threatened with death so early that magic itself had chosen to intervene. In that very moment, if the child was conscious, if they made a heartfelt wish there was a chance, however small, that magic would attempt to answer their cry amidst a bout of desperate accidental magic and profound  _need_. While he knew there were abuse cases out there in the world, he knew that not all abuse cases resulted in Wishkin, and not all Wishkin came from horrible families. Sometimes— the moment of fate happened.

And these two children—

They had both been desperate to escape a situation that was sure to destroy them. Amelia had introduced the children to Master Amygdala, and the master Legilimens had carefully extracted the memories of their past— memories that were necessary to shelter them deep within the DoM. Fortunately for the two children, both had been so tired that they had slept through the entire process, having succumbed to the exhaustion of living alone in the wilderness with only their wits and fortuitous ability to call fantastic beasts to their side.

The Gwyllgi were an enigma, even to the DoM. The Department of Regulation for magical beasts called them dogs of darkness, and considered them malevolent spirits that took form to terrorise travelers at night. Others called them demon dogs, while others just ran for their lives. It was obvious they cared about "their" people, however, seemingly begging for affection and pets like any loyal hound to their master. They were not the kind of thing normally allowed to follow people around, but it was obvious that these two children had bonded tightly to them in a familiar way— all of them, the entire pack.

That meant only one thing. The pair were Amimonstra— the beast charmers, rare magical beings who had the ability to bond to more than one familiar and sway fantastic beasts to their service. It was really the only thing he could see them as being.

Severus was sitting on the settee with Hermione, and he was brushing her curls with an old, inlaid brush. She sat patiently, her hands in her lap. It was obvious the pair bond had become quitestrong in a very short amount of time— forged in the magic that had transformed them together. They were children, and they very likely would not realise just what they had together, especially so young. Severus was protective of her, always ensuring Hermione was safe and fed before he tended to himself. She, on the other hand, always made him ate too, never eating everything unless he, too, had a share.

It was uncommon for children to be so thoughtful and unselfish so early in their lives, not that it was totally unheard of. Most children, he knew, were taken care of by their families. More time was spent at home than at school. More time was spent with parents and siblings than peers— at least usually.

But Kingsley had read of the exploits of one Hermione Jean Evans in the Muggle world. She was a brilliant little witch, who would have been the top scholar of her time in the Muggle world had things not gone the way they had. Severus, however, had a harder home life— a drunken lout of a father who beat his wife and his son. Yet, the boy's wit was obviously razor keen. He was suspicious of everything, as to be expected— except for Hermione. She alone, he trusted she wasn't hiding something from him. Yet the boy was always looking for the way out, the escape route if they had to flee. He evaluated each person he met with a few seconds of assessment—

That, Kingsley knew, was thanks to the abuse of his father. Had he lived in a more loving home, perhaps the boy would have been just as apt but in other areas and a slower pace— or maybe not. It was hard to say, having only known the boy a few hours.

For now, they would live together, sharing the master and apprentice quarters as they settled in which both new surroundings and each other. Amelia had broken the ice with them, so a bond of tentative trust existed to transfer over to him— but he knew he'd have to be careful or the two would lose trust in him and that could take far longer to heal than it would for him to be patient with them from the start.

For one thing, the only ones they had come to trust in fully were each other, and they kept in almost constant physical contact. A wing, a hand, a lean. There was always something they did to reassure the other. Bath time had been a strange crisis. For months, they had bathed together in the wilds of Britain— too scared to be apart to even consider their own modesty.

The bath had been designed for single person use, and Amelia had found them huddled together under the shower, cramming themselves together rather than bathing alone. So, realising that something had to change quickly, Amelia transfigured the bath into a hot springs— something a little more natural. Bathing pools with steaming water and a "shower" made by waterfall. The surrounding trees seemed to make the two feel better almost instantly, and they plunged into the water fall to wash away the dirt and grime and then plunged into the hot springs to soak.

After-bath rituals seemed just as important, and the pair groomed each other's wings, taking time to spread oil from a gland on their wrists to the other's feathers. The both of them seems oddly fascinated by the new robes they were given— perfectly soft and allowing their wings to remain free and unencumbered.

Now, Hermione was taking the same brush Severus had used on her and was carefully brushing out Severus' black hair. His eyes closed in appreciation of the reciprocated preening. Then, without even a word being said between them, they hustled off to the bedroom, not seemingly caring which one it was, piled the pillows around them to make a bowl, and then curled up together.

Hermione curled up in the fetal position, as Severus curled around her, his one wing curved around her body as his arm did around her waist. The Gwyllgi then rose up out of the very floor and settled in around them as the enchanted candles in the room went out.

Kingsley chuckled to himself. It was going to be an interesting few years.

* * *

_Pain._

_You made me a, you made me a believer, believer_

_Pain._

_You break me down, you built me up, believer, believer_

_Pain._

_I let the bullets fly, oh let them rain_

_My life, my love, my drive, it came from_

_Pain._

_You made me a, you made me a believer, believer._

—  _Imagine Dragons_

* * *

"I'm Geralt," a white-haired boy said, his golden almost-feline-reptilian eyes glowing as he kicked his legs as he sat on a pile of crates. "You new?"

Hermione shuffled closer, staring into the boy's eyes, fascinated. "Yes, we just got here," she said.

Severus frowned, peering at the other boy with suspicion. He placed a hand on Hermione's wing, and she took his hand and smiled. His dark eyes met hers, and her green eyes flashed with a rise of her magic as something passed between them. He gave the other boy a look and then nodded.

"I'm Hermione," Hermione said with a smile.

"Severus," Severus said quietly.

Geralt smiled and nodded. "I've been here for years. Amelia found me after my ma and da died in a fire. Brothers and sisters didn't make it."

"Sorry," Hermione said.

Geralt shrugged. "It happens. All of us— something happened, yeah? Something bad. Something we survived. I'm studying with Master Groot. Survival. Rogue monster hunting. Tracking. Heard you lived out in the forest before here."

Hermione nodded.

"Pretty good. Not all of us are so lucky," Geralt said. "Pamela was picked up starved and weak. Took her about a year to come out of her shell. Now, well, you can't get her stop climbing the walls like a sodding spider monkey."

Hermione giggled and Severus rose a brow.

"To be fair, she  _ **is**_ part-monkey," the boy said with a sigh, looking like he was forced to tolerate her for some higher reason he wasn't sharing at the moment.

"Why can people here understand us?" Severus asked. "People— outside—"

Geralt lifted his hand to expose the band of silver on his middle finger. "You got one, yeah? We all have them. It lets us hear each other at whatever level is comfortable to ourselves. So, maybe you speak really high or really low like an elephant. I'd hear you like you hear me. The Unspeakables will teach you signs that they use to communicate outside of here. We  _all_ use them. Outside, we all wear uniforms. Robes that cover our— individual differences. No one sees us without them outside. They all think we are creepy people who hiss and make funny gestures at everyone."

Hermione tilted her head. "Mmm, okay."

"Be happy we all have one. Otherwise we'd have to listen to Pamela screeching and howling as she scampers around."

Severus stuck his finger in his ear and twisted. "Yes," he agreed.

"Can you understand Haydn?" Hermione asked as the large Gwyllgi nudged her hand with his nose and enveloped her entire hand with his mouth and drooled.

Geralt shook his head. "Magical beasts are different."

 _He smells okay,_  Haydn said.  _You can keep him._

Severus snorted as Hermione's eyes widened.

"What?" Geralt asked.

Hermione tried to say something but her mouth worked with no sound.

"The flaming mongrel says you may live," Severus said.

Geralt laughed. "I'm glad. I'd hate to have my life cut short by a pack of Gwyllgi in the peak of my young, innocent life."

Severus snorted.

Geralt tapped his nose. "You're too sharp, Severus. The masters will have to keep an eye or three on you."

"Three?" Hermione asked.

"Two in front, one in back, always," Geralt said. "Masters always grow a third eye, sometimes a fourth," he tapped the space between his eyes.

Hermione's eyes widened.

Severus leaned over to whisper into her ear.

Hermione's eyes widened more and then narrowed. "You're messing with me!"

Geralt smiled cheekily. "Did it work?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Maybe."

Haydn suddenly pounced Geralt, snarling, his mouth opened wide to expose molten teeth.

The boy yelped, eyes growing very, very wide.

Suddenly, he bounced away, sitting next to Hermione and leaning in for a scratch.

Geralt slumped on his back, panting. "You were messing with  _me_."

"Did it work?" Hermione echoed.

The white-haired boy sighed. "Maybe."

Severus' tight smile said everything in silence.

"Come on, i'll take you to the mess hall, yeah? It's lunchtime, so they'll have put out a buffet to  _die_ for."

Hermione and Severus perked at the idea of food. "Okay."

* * *

Hermione giggled as the enchanted measuring tape and scissors swirled around her. Severus gave her the eyebrow, silently tolerating the strange attention the witch was giving her as she measured and tutted over them both.

The Unspeakables were standing there with them— well, some of them were. Their moonlit robes seemed more like light rather than conventional cloth. Their hoods cast their faces in shadow, and their eyes had blindfolds over them. Their mouths, still in shadow, seemed to have a plate-like guard over them.

"Don't hover, Donovan, Michaels," the witch tutted. "I'm hardly going to kidnap them."

The Unspeakables exchanged glances silently.

"I've known you since you were in diapers, pets," she said. "I  _know_ hovering when I see it."

One of the measuring tapes got tangled up in Hermione's wing and she jerked her wing. The poor tape went flying off and bonked one Unspeakable on the head.

_Thunk._

The tape made a soft sound of protest as it slid down the Unspeakable's body and landed with a thump on the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione cried, jumping off the platform to go retrieve the innocent victim of her wing abuse. She cradled it in her hands and gave it to the elder witch.

"There now, pet," she said, giving her a fond pat on the head. "No harm done. Believe you me, this old tape and I have had to measure everything from wings, spikes, horns, and everything in between."

The tape shuddered in the witch's hand.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said to the tape.

The tape extended itself and slowly touched Hermione's hand and then seemed to accept the apology, doing a loop de loop. It finished its measurements, getting all over Hermione with enthusiastic measuring.

Hermione looked at Severus, who was still standing perfectly still like a statue, giving her a tolerant sigh.

"Okay, loves," the witch said. "I'll get your new robes to you as soon as they are done. It's important you always have them on when you go outside of here. You understand, yes?"

Hermione and Severus nodded, their wings touching the other for reassurance under the elder witch's scrutiny.

One of the Unspeakables lowered their hood, exposing the kindly face of Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Ready to go inspect the library?"

Hermione and Severus perked together, smiles instantly appearing on their faces.

"Let's go then. Thank Madam Potts for her kind attention, please."

"Thank you Madam Potts," the children chimed together.

"You're very welcome, pets," she said with a warm smile.

The pair each took one of Kingsley's hands and walked beside him, no small amount of joy in their steps and in the spring of their wings.

* * *

"I don't like you," the thin, black and white haired boy said. His hair was split down the middle between white and black, and he had curly ears on his head that seemed more canine than feline. He got up into Severus' face, using the great span of three extra inches to show his physical dominance.

"And why should I even  _care_ ," Severus answered, his dark eyes seeming even darker, "what you think of me?"

"I heard about  _you_ ," the boy snapped. "You killed your own  _father_."

Severus' eyes seemed to darken. "Maybe he deserved it. Do you?"

"Do I  _what_?" the other boy said.

"Deserve it." Severus's lips pressed together as darkness seemed to gather in his gaze, turning it umbral and dangerous. The moment their gazes locked, Severus got a flash of insight from the other boy's mind.

His lip curled. "Attacking me won't bring them back."

"What are you talking about?!"

" _Your_  parents."

The other boy's face grew very red and—

_**THWACK!** _

Severus stood, a stream of blood trickling down his face.

"I didn't need them, and I don't need you here mucking up our family," the other boy hissed.

Severus drew his arm across his face, wiping away the blood. Hermione started to come up, but Severus gave her a look and a tiny twitch of his wings. Hermione stopped, seemingly realising that he needed to handle this situation alone. For a moment, their eyes glowed green together, and Hermione stepped away into the crowd.

"Need a little  _girl_ to help you?" the other boy mocked.

Severus' eyes had bleed into purest black, the tiniest twitch of his lip disclosed a bitter connection of this one boy to Tobias Snape.

"Leave. Her. Out. Of. This," Severus said, his fist clenching.

The other boy, thinking himself victorious, smiled. "I don't need some helpless girl to stand up for  _me_."

"She's not helpless," Severus said. Something flickered in his eyes, making the boy seem far older than his smaller stature belied. "She knows I do not need help to deal with—" He didn't even get to finish as the other boy leapt upon him, pummeling him into the ground with his fists.

"Stewart Ashgroven," a deep voice snarled, and the boy's head jerked up, eyes wide.

"Master?"

A creature that looked like a cross between a dragon and a bat loomed over the crowd of lunchtime eaters.

"You  _shame_ me," the creature snarled, his ears laid flat against his head.

"Master," the boy grovelled even as Severus was bleeding all over his face, lying flat on his back.

Stewart prostrated himself on the floor, and the draconic bat growled. "Back to your quarters, Mr Ashgroven. There you will stay until I decide what is appropriate to do to you that doesn't involve me ripping out your throat with my teeth. Now go!"

The boy scrambled out of the lunchroom and away.

The dragonbat wing-walked over to where Severus was and lowered his head, breathing out a misty cloud of green vapour. Severus coughed, sitting up, his eyes wide as he looked at the monstrous muzzle of his saviour.

"I must apologise for my apprentice," the creature said. "He will be… appropriately dealt with."

Severus' face was still swollen and bleeding, and he sniffled as Hermione rushed to place her hands on his face, her hands shaking as she saw just how wounded he was.

"I'm  _fine_ ," he insisted.

But the moment she placed her hands on his face, her wings curled around his back and his wrapped around hers. There was a warm rush of magic as his face healed right before everyone's eyes.

Snape's expression softened as he pet her hair soothingly. "Foolish girl," he chided gently.

Hermione pulled away and swatted him playfully as the dragonbat chuckled. "Severus, Hermione, please go to the infirmary and make sure you are not suffering from anything unforeseen, yes?"

"Yes, Master Morgan."

The dragonbat grunted. "I will tell Kingsley about how you took multiple blows to the face without losing your cool. However, I think, perhaps, we shall work on teaching you how to dodge."

Severus looked at his feet. "Yes, Master Morgan."

"And young Severus?"

"Master?"

"Take care of yourself, or Hermione will cuff you about the head and it will not heal as fast, hrm?"

Severus flushed. "Yes, Master."

He grasped Hermione's hand as they bowed and scurried down the hallway.

* * *

As Eileen Snape opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was her son and a mysterious girl curled up together on the family couch-bed in the room. They were sleeping, nestled together with a closeness that even she and Tobias had never had— even when he had been sober.

The second thing she saw was the Unspeakable— in full regalia— sitting beside them. Its eerie gaze seemed to gaze straight through her, and it made her tremble. She couldn't help it. Unspeakables were like the boogeymen you always warned your children about. Don't do that or the Unspeakables will get you.

Yet…

Her son and the mysterious winged girl were curled up in the Unspeakable's lap, resting their heads upon its leg—

How did you even  _tell_ if they were male or female?

She realised, much to her disorientation, that she wasn't back in Cokeworth's hospital, either. She was—

St Mungo's.

She stirred in the bed, and her son opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with silent inquiry. He never was one for talking— not since Tobias had beaten it out of him. Pangs of guilt gnawed at her stomach. She should have been a better mother. She should have  _protected_ her son— instead, she had sworn off her magic in her shame of having a drunken one night stand with a Muggle man.

There was no doubt in her mind that one day, Tobias would be the death of her or her son— or both.

Yet, somehow she was alive. Somehow, her son had escaped Tobias.

Was she imagining it, or did her son's eyes just flash green?

The girl was stirring now, and she yawned, stretching like a lazy cat in a sunbeam, ending with a tiny squeak as she smacked her lips and blinked blearily. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, sleepily leaning into Severus.

Touching her son…

Yet there was no flinch. No withdrawal. Not even a token scowl. There was something  _different_ about this little girl with her son. Something—

The girl's hair was standing straight up after sleep, and Severus silently scooched over and patted the couch-bed beside him. She bounced over on the couch and put her back to him, and he pulled out the inlaid hairbrush from his grandmother. Gently coaxing the hair into submission, the girl drooped, wings fluttering, obviously finding pleasure and happiness in the attention.

Eileen's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when the girl turned around and made a twirling motion with her finger. Severus obediently turned for her, and she brushed his hair down, and once that was done, she fussed with his wings, using her fingers to preen them into place and spread and realign the feathers. Once all was done, Severus leaned to whisper something to the girl, and she peered over at Eileen with suspicious eyes.

Severus touched her arm, stroking it tenderly— reassurance. That was when she saw it— a flash of Sight that showed the tendrils like silk woven between her son and this mysterious girl. Their magic was woven together. The uninhibited touches, the— trust. Trust he didn't even have for her. His own mother.

Not that she deserved it— she knew this. She had failed him in many, many ways. She had run from her own talents and the magical world, getting herself drunk and pregnant by a random Muggle man. She had the Sight, and she had run from it. She had never stopped running from  _some_ thing.

Her Sight. Her family's wishes. Her own guilt and shame.

Yet there it was, right in front of her. Her wonderful, sensitive son as it could have been between them.

The girl sighed and nodded, hopping into the Unspeakable's lap and wrapping her arms around its neck. The figure stood, and Eileen realised he was quite tall. Yes.  _Definitely_ a he. He wrapped his arm around the young winged girl and walked out of the room, not even bothered by the girl's death grip around his neck. As he passed, the soft sound of chimes rang in his wake.

Eileen shivered. Unspeakables were  _scary_. It was almost visceral, the deep, instinctive need to shrink back from him.

Severus stood and walked over to her bed. He stood, silent and stiff. His dark eyes were unreadable— long gone were the days when he had worn his emotions on his sleeve. Long gone, too, were the days when her son would come to him and want her approval.

She had wasted nine whole  _years—_ running from her old life and then running from her new one. She had even run from him, her own son, thinking that if he didn't stay close that maybe it would be better, safer for him somehow.

Severus' mouth moved, but she could hear nothing.

She shook her head at him, wondering if somehow she'd lost the ability to hear after being knocked about the head.

Severus sighed at her, and he held out a band of metal— a ring.

She looked at it.

He gave her a stern look— so very grown up for a young child. He held it out, giving her the eye.

Slowly, she put it on, gasping as it slithered around her finger and tightened.

" _Now_  can you hear me, mum?"

Eileen's eyes widened. "Yes, Severus. What are you— how on earth did I get here?"

"Master Shacklebolt moved you here from Cokeworth," he said. "Said after what da did to you, it was high time you left Cokeworth behind."

Eileen flinched. Cokeworth, as horrible as it was, had become the hell she knew, and she both wanted to leave it and yet didn't at the same time. Tobias would be  _so_ angry. He'd beat her bloody— but if she went back maybe he wouldn't just find her later and kill her.

Severus was frowning at her. "You cannot go back."

Eileen jerked her head up. "Severus, it's our home!"

Severus shook his head. "No, it's not. It's the place where you let him beat you almost to death. It's the place he tried to kill me. It's the place he tried to kill Her— he deserves what he got."

Eileen's blood froze. "What did you  _do_ , Severus?"

"I got my head bashed into a wall, mum. I couldn't do a bloody thing." Severus' casual use of profanity caused her to jerk back in shock. He was nine. What had  _happened_ to her son to turn him into such a—

A crushing wave of guilt again—

"What happened to your father?"

Severus' eyes flashed emerald for just a second. "The hellhounds got him, mum. They saved my life. They tore his soul to shreds. He lives in a Muggle mental hospital now."

Eileen blinked. Severus never,  _ever_ made things up the way most children would, but how was she supposed to take the news that some sort of mythical hell-beast had come and dealt with Tobias?

Severus turned his head away, his wings twitching in a nervous tic. "Master Shacklebolt said you don't have to worry about me anymore, mum. Just worry about healing yourself. I live with him now as his apprentice."

Who  _was_ this Master Shacklebolt?

She started to sit up to put her feet on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Severus hissed.

"I'm going home."

"No," Severus snapped, grasping at her wrist.

"Let go of me, Severus!"

Severus shook his head. "You can't go back there!"

She felt it then— the anger. He dropped her hand. "I may not be able to stop you, mum, but there are others who  _can_."

Eileen frowned. Her son would call the Aurors on her? Would he even know  _how_?

Nine, she kept telling herself. He was only nine-years-old.

A low growl sounded off as a pair of dark smoky canines seeped up from the tiled floor. Glowing eyes of fire met with spikes on the back and jaws dripping with magma—

Hellhounds.

Her son had really  _meant_ hellhounds.

"Nisha and Kyra will stay here with you," Severus said. His dark eyes bore into her. "If you try to leave Mungos, I'll know immediately." His hands rubbed the Gwyllgi's ears, and they looked up at him with pure adoration.

Merlin— what in Merlin's name had her son become?

"They will not hurt you," he said. "But they will not let you leave until you are well again."

"Severus," Eileen gasped. What could she say to her young son who just set hellhounds on her to keep her from going back to Cokeworth?

"It's for your own good, mum," Severus said quietly. "He almost  _killed_ you." The silent "again" went unsaid.

"Severus, I'm an adult. I can handle it."

"Like you handled it all  _my_ life?" Severus hissed furiously.

Eileen recoiled at the level of venom in her young son's voice.

Nine-years-old.

 _Nine_.

What had she  _done_? She'd robbed her own son of his childhood, and he would never get it back. She had taken away his innocence. She'd robbed him of love.

There was a knock at the door, and the little girl ran in carrying in a large bundle of flowers, mums in autumnal shades of gold, amber, copper and burgundy. The Unspeakable gestured to the table and this time she could understand them.

"Use the spell just like I taught you, Hermione."

"Okay, Master!"

She concentrated really hard as her hands cupped on the table.

_Pop!_

An elegant crystal vase appeared.

Severus poured water into the vase as Hermione set in the flowers. She pet them to arrange them neatly in the vase.

"I got her some flowers, Severus. I really hope she likes them!" She smiled up at him and he engulfed her in a hug of warm wings and arms.

"They're very pretty," he replied with a fond smile. "Thank you."

She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I didn't have any money, but Master leant me a galleon."

Severus smiled. He then turned back to Eileen and sighed. "I hope you get better soon, mum, but until then, I'm glad you're finally somewhere safe."

He paused. "They really like to be pet on the ears, by the way. They like to cuddle too." He gave the two Gwyllgi fond pats.

He held out his hand.

Eileen blinked.

"The ring is just a loaner," he explained.

 _Oh_.

She removed it and placed it in his hand. He handed it to the Unspeakable, and this time all she heard was the sound of windchimes.

Severus said something to her, but she couldn't hear it again.

 _Goodbye, mum,_  she realised as she watched his lips form the words once more.

The Unspeakable left the room first, and the two children followed after— hands linked and their wings touching just before the telltale  _ **crack**_ of a Disapparate carried them away.

Eileen stared at the two Gwyllgi with no little nervousness, but they just lay on the pull out bed and watched her. She looked at the flowers and saw that one dark feather and a honey-brown feather sat mixed in amongst the flower buds.

"Guess I don't have much of a choice but to stay," she said to herself.

 _Woof_ , one Gwyllgi barked.

The other just watched her, silent and intimidating.

Maybe it was time for her to stop running after all.

* * *

_**And everyone dies. The End.** _

_(ok, not really, but blame IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse for leaving me on an evil cliffhanger. Cliffhangers make me GRUMPY!) LOL. (Not really blaming her, but my heart is… argh!)_

_And this is not a cliffhanger, thank you very much. I try hard not to do that to people with my crazy writing schedule or lack thereof._

* * *

**A/N:**  Praise be to The Dragon and the Rose, who stayed up past her expiration hour to beta this chapter. Send her helpful plush spiders to cuddle. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** In this story, Severus and Hermione are the same age, Lily is one year older than Hermione, and Petunia is one year older than Petunia. Just to clear up those of you who were wondering.

 **Beta Love:**  The Long-Sufferer-of-Me-Dragon and the Rose, the Abused-and-Tired-Dutchgirl01, and the Dominator-of-Assassin's-Creed-Commander Shepard

* * *

 **Spiders:** _No money being made disclaimer here!_

* * *

**Learning to Fly**

**Chapter 2**

_Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn._ Benjamin Franklin

"So, why can no one hear them without the rings?" Kingsley asked in as he watched the children playing with the fish in the fountain. They fed them small pellets, trying to get the fish they wanted to see come up and visit. Wrangling koi apparently went over as well as herding cats judging by the giggling and general lack of success.

Master Garibaldi smiled at the children's antics. "Their voices shifted to much lower than the human ear can hear normally. Much like elephants versus bats. The voice we can hear without the rings— it's only a very small part of their vocal range. I'm pretty sure the change in frequencies happened when they changed to become Amimonstra."

"So beasts can hear them clearly, while most humans cannot," Kingsley noted.

Garibaldi nodded. "Aye." He watched the two children watched the Gwyllgi sticking their heads into the fountain to track the fish. "They seem to be learning the hand signs well. I have no doubt, as they get used to their new vocal range, they will be able to force themselves to speak in a normal range for humans— but to themselves, they may feel like they are talking like a chipmunk on Ogden's."

Kingsley snorted. "Didn't need that mental image, Sebastian."

Severus had thrown a ball for the Gwyllgi to fetch, and the dogs sprinted to chase them. Hermione was reading a book from her perch on the fountain edge, but she leaned into him, their wings wrapped around the other as they shared their time together.

"Oddly they show no signs of desiring personal space," Garibaldi said with a chuckle. "My kids  _hate_ each other. They're both convinced the other is their mortal enemy."

Kingsley snorted. "As we both know, being related does not necessarily make for a loving relationship," he said grimly.

"No, I suppose you're right," Sebastian said with a sigh. "But I think— those two are in a form of symbiosis. With Severus, Hermione can be brave, outgoing. With Hermione, Severus can wait to judge— temper the darkness that his father beat into him. I have a feeling they would have both been powerful without each other but—"

Sebastian sighed. "We know all too well what abuse can do to the fragile psyche of a child. It plants the seeds that can so easily turn them to Dark magic. Instead, we have two children who have harnessed an entire pack of Gwyllgi— creatures of the depths of the Underworld— and all they want to do with them is have them around and play with them like a pack of hunting hounds."

Kingsley snorted. "Don't think them entirely angels, Sebastian," he said. "There is a touch of Loki, Itomi, Coyote, or Raven in them both. They keep moving stuff around in Amelia's office, getting past her wards just to move her morning coffee."

"Blasphemy," Garibaldi commented.

"Quite."

"Excellent feat."

"Very."

The two masters chuckled together.

Sebastian smiled. "Are they behind the shark that showed up in the greenhouse, just swimming around in the air and chasing Master Greenfolk's apprentices?"

Kingsley snorted. "I plead the fifth."

"Going American, are you, Kings?"

"For now, perhaps."

"Don't make me throw one of those brains in the aquarium at you," Sebastian muttered.

"It will starve."

"Undoubtedly."

"Git."

" _Master_  Git to you, Master Cauldron-stirrer."

The two friends sniffed and stared the opposite direction of each other, wide grins on their faces.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Evans were starting to realise that their happy family hadn't been all that happy in quite some time. First, after the disappearance of their beloved youngest daughter, Hermione, they found out that their other two daughters had gutted their sibling's room and either destroyed or taken all of her belongings. Second, months later, the police had given up their searches for Hermione, Lily and Petunia had started fighting more often, leaving their house a total wreck.

Then, something had sent Lily into a tizzy, and pictures had started flying around the house, and they found Petunia pinned by silverware to the kitchen ceiling. Petunia had been screaming that Lily was a "freak just like stupid Hermione, and she was going to get rid of her, just like they got rid of Hermione."

They had to send both of their children to therapy, and all it had managed to reveal was that the hatred Lily and Petunia had felt for their youngest child had been far greater than anyone had  _ever_ imagined. The wings incident had been just one of many attacks on their younger sister, and they had convinced her that she was a freak and mummy and daddy wouldn't love her anymore when they realised how freakishly awful she was.

Then, just as it was time for them to think about putting their children into separate schools to keep them from killing each other, a letter from someplace called Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry came for Lily by bird— an owl. The entire family flipped on its side again.

And so they got their wish for a peaceful family at least for most of the year when Lily would be off somewhere in Scotland while Petunia reveled in being the only one around with all her own stuff. While they were proud of Lily for being special enough to go to a magical school— the very idea of magic being real being quite fascinating— they couldn't help but wonder what things Hermione would have done had she not run away.

It was only once Lily and Petunia were off to school that Mrs Evans finally had to know and tore their rooms apart, board by board, shelf by shelf, over and under…

… and found the stash of notes written by two jealous sisters who intended to drive their their baby sister to kill herself.

Mrs Evans crushed the notes to her bosom, fell to her knees, and wept.

* * *

"You have  _two_ older sisters?" Severus asked as they perched on the tree limb overlooking Hermione's old house.

"Lily and Petunia," she said. "Lily is one year older. Petunia is two years older. They weren't expecting me. I was… an accident."

"They didn't name you a flower?"

"No, Daddy wanted a different name. Mum named Lily and Petunia. Lily was born in winter on a nice even year."

"Nice  _what_?"

"That's what mum called it. 1960. A nice even year."

"Odd way to put it," Severus observed. "I don't think my mum planned on me either. I know for sure that da didn't. He made that  _very_ clear."

Hermione flapped her wings, kicking her legs a little. "I'm really glad you're here."

Severus' brows furrowed but he curled one wing around her. "Me too."

Kingsley let out a low croak, and the children looked up to see the thunderbird yawning above them. His weight was bowing the branch a little, putting him off kelter.

"Someone had too much pudding at lunch," Hermione giggled.

Severus looked up, smiling.

The thunderbird scowled at them.

"Sorry, Master," Hermione said, giggling. She stared over to the house and shivered. "I don't think I can do this."

Severus held her in a wing embrace. "You can. It's your mum, right?"

"She'll cry. She'll shake me," Hermione said.

"No she won't," Severus said. "Not with our master with us. Well, she may cry though. She's female, after all."

Hermione wriggled out of his embrace and huffed, shoving him away from her. "Psh."

Her immediate absence, even in play, seemed to affect Severus, and his face turned into a frown. He slowly sneaked his wing over her back and rubbed her gently and then curled it around her again.

Hermione huffed, but her wing wrapped around his waist again as she leaned into him again. "I  _hate_ you," she said. "Why can't I ever stay mad at you?"

Severus gave her a boyish grin.

Hermione leaned into him again. "I'm ready."

"Bought time," he ribbed.

"Prat."

He smiled at her, his black eyes shining.

* * *

" _Hermione_?!" Mrs Evans burst into tears as she held her daughter and then gasped as her arms hit the wings. "My Hermione?"

Hermione fidgeted, her wings trembling a little. Severus immediately stood beside her, wrapping one wing over her back and offering touch as comfort.

"Mum, this is Severus. My best friend," Hermione said. "This is my master, Master Shacklebolt."

"Master?" Mrs Evans said, confused.

"Mrs Evans," Kingsley said softly. "Your daughter is learning in a very special school that caters to magical children."

"Wait, like Hogwarts? Lily's school?"

Hermione became frightened, immediately diving for cover under Kingsley's robes as she gripped his side. Kingsley's eyes darkened as he realised his charge's fear was more than a little debilitating.

"Mrs Evans, may we please move to your garden?"

"Please, come inside," she said.

Hermione shook her head violently, clinging to Kingsley's leg even tighter.

"The garden would be preferable, ma'am," Kingsley said.

Mrs Evans nodded, gesturing to the pristine white gate to the back.

As they shuffled there, Mrs Evans offered tea, and they settled in. Hermione scooched a chair closer to Kingsley, and Severus did the same to be close to Hermione, putting himself between her and Mrs Evans with his dark eyes hardly straying from her face.

"Now, my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, ma'am, and I have taken on Hermione and Severus here as my apprentices in the magical world. They will be with me until they finish their schooling and sit their final exams sometime in the next seven years. Formal apprenticeships are a bit more traditional than Hogwarts. Only one or two students per teacher. Hogwarts is an option in a year for these two, but they may choose to pester me for the entire time. That will be up to them. If they do, then they will go there for part of the year and then return to me after. It will be a full, year-round commitment."

"But what if I want to see my child?" Mrs Evans protested.

"Visits will be possible, provided the triggers for her abuse are not here, Mrs Evans," Kings said meaningfully. I would prefer this to be at times when perhaps only you or Mr Evans will visit her under supervision."

" _ **Supervision?!**_ I'm her  _ **mother!**_ "

Hermione cringed, resuming her bear trap clinging on Kingsley's leg.

"Mrs Evans, as you can clearly see," he said, "your youngest daughter is in a very sensitive new state. I do not think you're blind to these changes in her, nor will I ignore them. Once she is well-situated and both physically  _and_ emotionally healthy in her new home, we will be able to arrange those visits for you. The master is rarely if  _ever_ far from their apprentice unless under the supervision of another master that can intervene if something highly emotional and magical happens— something that I'm afraid you cannot handle by yourself, Mrs Evans."

"It would be different this time," Mrs Evans argued. "We  _know_ magic exists."

"Knowing it exists does not prepare you to deal with accidental and uncontrolled magic charged by strong emotion, Mrs Evans," Kingsley explained. "Children are highly emotional creatures. They tend to react without thinking, and they often react selfishly. Now, I'm not saying that Hermione is prone to such things, but she could if she's frightened or in a highly emotional state as a result of some stressor. Magical children often explode with magic, and up becomes down, tea is served on the ceiling, or windows can be blown open, if not completely off their hinges. A magical child feeling a need to defend themself can blast someone into the room three walls over from them and then when confronted, take down an entire  _roof_. It is not simply safe for you be in the line of fire."

Kingsley frowned. "It is also not wise to bring Hermione into a place where she might meet her older sisters until she has adequate control over her magic."

Mrs Evans paled at that. She reached out to Hermione, and Hermione looked up to Kingsley for guidance. Kingsley nodded, and she tentatively hopped off of Kingsley's lap and allowed her tearful mother to hold her. Mrs Evans pet her head and the wings, her eyes widening as she realised the wings were attached— and  _not_ mechanically. She stiffened, and Hermione obviously felt her mother's instinctive reaction. She didn't move, but she gave Severus a desperate look. The look did not go unmissed by Kingsley.

"Mrs Evans, we came here as a courtesy so you would not worry yourself over your daughter's location or think she was wandering alone out there, unable to come home. I can promise you that where she will be is far safer than many other places, and her education will not suffer," Kingsley said. "I will give you my card so you can write to your daughter whenever you wish. Simply address it to her care of Kingsley Shacklebolt and it  _will_ get to her."

Mrs Evans hugged her daughter even tighter, visibly conflicted.

"Mummy, you're  _ **hurting**_ me!" Hermione yelped, forgetting that her mother couldn't hear her.

" _ **Let go of her!"**_  Severus yelled, his face twisting in anger and fear as his "silent" cry caused Mrs Evans to gasp and let Hermione go.

Hermione shot into Severus' arms, wrapping her wings around him tightly as his folded his own comfortingly around her back. His black eyes glowered fiercely at Mrs Evans.

Kingsley stood, tucking the two children under his arm, his own dark eyes filled with electricity. One great wing unfolded from his back and curved around them pulling them against his side, magical energy crackling angrily down every feather. The children pressed themselves into his side and under his feathers, allowing his crackling magic to cover them and dance across their skin and wings.

"I believe it is time for us to go, Mrs Evans. I will contact you when visitations will be possible," Kingsley said, schooling his face to neutrality despite the trembling children at his side.

Before Mrs Evans could even say anything—

_**CRACK!** _

They were gone.

* * *

Memo

To: Department of Mysteries, All

From: HBOY Amelia Bones

Due to last week's unfortunate incident at the Evans home, I have decided to create a new office within the department. I have hired Madam Aurelia Hastings to be the head of that office, one that will be to working with the families of our most unique magical children, particularly Muggles who tend to be more than a bit bewildered by their children's magic and even more so when their children develop more obvious physical differences that set them apart from their siblings and peers.

Her responsibilities will be to manage a team of ten social workers to help with the transition of Muggle families into understanding and eventual acceptance of their magical children as well as slowly introducing them to the world of magic so that the glaring differences between their world and ours does not cause any more stress and confusion than necessary.

Key amongst the duties of Madam Hastings' team will be to assess whether family visitation should be permitted and determine when it is safe to do so.

RE: The annual DoM Family Picnic will be held this Saturday at noon in the Dilys Derwent Memorial Garden Courtyard.

The usual picnic goodies will be on offer but if you want to bring something special, you are more than welcome to do so. Just please make sure to bring enough for everyone.

Especially if it involves chocolate.

And definitely don't forget our new clutch of extremely stealthy (and sticky-fingered) winged friends.

* * *

Amelia nudged Kingsley as he was spacing out, staring blankly into the fire. "How are they?"

"Oh, they showered and soaked for an hour before crawling into the nest for bed," Kings said with a smile. "No harm done. Severus is a little protective of her, hovering over her like a harpy eagle with one chick, but that's pretty understandable. It's already better and it's only been a week or so."

"That bond they share is amazingly strong," Amelia said. "I read your report and confirmed with the Headmaster. Lily Marie Evans was admitted to Hogwarts this year."

"That puts our plans of trying to introduce them to Hogwarts to rest, hrm?" Kings said. "Not that they would likely get on there very well."

Amelia nodded. "Fortunately, they seem to have bonded to  _you_ well enough, Master Thunderbird," she teased.

"That's  _Master_ Cauldron-stirrer to you, ma'am," he replied rather cheekily.

Amelia snickered.

"Ma'am," he said.

"Hrm?"

"I heard rumours that Stewart has been sniffing around here. Do I need to start peeing in the corners, or does Master Morgan know?"

"He's been on his best behaviour, Kings," she said. "We're all aware, but if he's skulking about, we have no idea what he's up to."

"She's safe here with me," Kings said slowly, "but— we cannot watch her all the time. No one could, anymore than we can watch him all the time."

Amelia nodded. "Also we have  _no_ idea what is going on in his head. Manfred said the boy has been unstable lately. He suspects that Stewart's been snorting psychoactive potion vapours on the sly, but—"

"I know you want to give the boy a chance, boss, but—" Kings sighed. "Look, his case was tragic. We all know it. There is raised by wolves and there is  _literally_ being raised by wolves, and I think maybe he missed out on something very important to his emotional development while he was busy surviving in the wild."

"He broke my heart," Amelia admitted quietly.

"And he  _knows_ it, ma'am."

Amelia sighed. "I know, Kings. I just hope to Merlin that we're wrong about him."

* * *

"Hey guys!" Geralt said cheerfully, beckoning them over. "Did you get one of those huge roast beef sarnies? They're as big as your bloody head!"

"I  _think_ we're supposed to slice those and share," Hermione said, eyeing him rather skeptically.

Geralt rubbed his tummy with an expression of pure bliss. "I liked them."

Severus snorted, passing Hermione a pastie.

"Ooo, is it cherry?" She sniffed it with interest. "You're the  _best_ , Severus!"

Severus turned away. "Was nothing," he muttered, flushing.

Hermione bounced up and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then proceeded to devour the tasty cherry pastie with obvious delight.

Geralt shrugged. "Females. At least she doesn't fling poo like Pamela, though."

Hermione used her knee to thump Geralt soundly in the shin.

" _ **Oi!**_  Hey! Where are those ladylike manners, hm?"

Hermione muttered something impolite from behind her pastie.

"Romance is  _dead_ ," Geralt said, theatrically stabbing himself in the heart.

Hermione gave him an odd look, then just shrugged. Her hands were all sticky, and she frowned. She made the sign for restroom and waved her "r" back and forth.

Geralt signed back "Ewwww" as Severus rolled his eyes.

Hermione scampered off to wash her hands.

"She'll probably be your partner for life, yeah?" Geralt sighed. "Hope you two don't kill each other first. My first partner… we were like fire and petrol. My master finally admitted she had made a serious error of judgment in deciding to pair us together when Geoff set me on fire and then burned my tail off with fiendfyre."

Severus blinked.

"I don't recommend it, by the way," Geralt said. "Took a whole month to grow my tail back to its gloriously bushy sexiness." His white fluffy tail swished to demonstrate its charms.

"You're a pretty odd bloke, you know that right?" Severus said.

Geralt grinned. "Aren't we all?"

"You're  _definitely_ more odd than most."

Geralt laughed. "Thanks, Severus."

Severus smiled, just a faint tug of his lips.

Suddenly, Severus crumpled to his knees, his fingernails digging deep into the ground as he let out a scream and his eyes glowed a fierce green. Darkness flowed out of his body as the Gwyllgi appeared with a baying howl.

Severus' face was beyond wrathful. Beyond fear. Beyond anguish. He tore wildly at his hair as his expression twisted into something seemingly inhuman.

Kingsley was yelling, " _ **Find Hermione, NOW!"**_

Tracers instantly shot out from multiple wands as Master Morgan took to the air and zoomed off after one of the tracer beacons in a flurry of leathery wings.

Amelia grabbed Severus to her, pulling him close, but his body was stiff and twitching spasmodically. His eyes were glassy with hatred, pain, and— a frightening emptiness.

Soul-tearing, gut-twisting, anguish.

The Gwyllgi took off, baying, and Amelia jerked her head up. " _ **No, Severus! NO!"**_

His hateful gaze stared through her.

" _ **Severus**_!" she repeated.

There was a blast of scalding hot magic that tore through the area as a howling scream of agony rang out in the distance. Amelia took Severus into her arms and took flight, her wings straining from the extra weight, but she wasn't let it stop her. Each beat of her wings was like the a thump of a beating heart.

_Bad-um._

_Bad-um._

She landed to find Master Morgan cradling Hermione in his wings and breathing gently on her. She coughed and opened her eyes as the Gwyllgi licked her face in comfort, their tails wagging madly, relieved that their beloved young mistress was awake.

"M-master Morgan?" she whispered. "Did I hit my head?"

The dragon-bat's expression softened. "No, my dear. But I believe your friend needs a very big hug right now."

Hermione looked over to Severus. "Severus?"

Severus rushed over to her, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his head to her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"Why do you look so sad?" Hermione asked, confused. She pet his hair.

"I felt your pain," he whispered.

Hermione frowned. "It  _hurt_. But— then it stopped." She seemed to remember. "Stewart put his hands on my face. Said he wanted to show me something, but— it wasn't fun at all. It burned."

"Why did you let him  _ **TOUCH**_ you?!" he cried.

Hermione flinched, her lips trembling. "I tried to get away from him but I couldn't  _move_." She pulled away from Severus, hurt by his anger.

"Stewart's talent lies in breaking bonds. Mental or physical bonds," the dragon-bat explained. "But the key to his talent was that once he made even the slightest of skin contact, his victim could not move. They were paralysed and could not escape."

Severus only partly heard Morgan's words, his face twisted in pain as Hermione shied away from his touch.

Amelia was rapidly running multiple wand passes over an unconscious Stewart, who was laying flat on his back. His black and white hair had turned a nondescript mousy brown. His dog ears had disappeared completely. His hands, which had once been somewhere between hands and paws, were now mundanely normal and human.

"No magic," Amelia said. "Not a drop."

The masters all whispered together. " _Vinclum impetus,_ " they muttered. "The magic has abandoned him."

"Master, what does that mean?" a heavily panting Geralt asked as he caught up to them.

"Stewart attempted to break a powerful bond forged by magic itself," Master Morgan said. "It defended itself, and—" the dragon-bat snarled, "had it not retaliated, I would have punished him myself. To break a magical bond blessed by magic is to forfeit the bond between you and your own magic. That is why such a barbaric act is absolutely forbidden in our oldest of laws."

Master Morgan looked down into his wings and cradled Hermione. "I will take her back home and watch over her, Kingsley. Please stay with Amelia and decide where you wish to ship Mr Ashgroven. I will sign whatever release documents you wish."

Kingsley nodded grimly. "Thank you."

Morgan took off, cradling the young girl to his chest as he flew.

Severus paled, looking utterly distressed. Finally, he could take it no more and flew after the monstrous dragon-bat as the Gwyllgi faded into the ground with a joint woof.

* * *

When Kingsley returned to their shared quarters he noticed a distinctive divide in the room, but while the normal "nesting bowl" was occupied, there was one member short. The Gwyllgi seemed a little confused being split down the middle. Some of them were next to Severus while the rest were with Hermione as she curled up next to the large, hulking mass that was Master Morgan.

Severus' assumption that Hermione had given Stewart permission to do what he liked with her mind had been impulsive and rooted in abject fear— but Hermione was the victim. Time and experience allowed for the rational dissection of such things, but the pair were very young and emotionally compromised.

Even with such a strong bond, there was bound to be— occasional bouts of turbulence.

Morgan, however, seemed to be allowing them to work things out with just his presence as the moderator to keep the roof from falling down over them. Fortunately, Hermione was showing her displeasure with less violence and more cold shouldering— something Kingsley figured hurt her every bit as much as it did him.

She was doing it anyway to voice her opinion, and it was a strong one.

The poor boy was attempting to bridge the rift, reaching out to her, but she pulled away each time moving away instead of towards. Each time she did, he winced, conflicted as to what he could do to mend this horrible rift that was growing in his heart.

Suddenly, his lips pressed together, and he dashed out the door in a flurry of dark wings and cloth, leaving a much greater distance between them.

Hermione curled up into an even tighter ball of misery, her fists clutching poor Master Morgan's fur tightly. The old dragon-bat had tended to many an orphan, batling, and fosterling in his time, and he nuzzled her, giving her hair a good grooming that probably felt much better than the interesting new look it gave her hair. Her already bushy curls looked like it was going to take over the room like Kudzu gone wild.

Kingsley could see the doubt in the girl's resolve that maybe Severus wouldn't get the point and they would end up parted "forever"- or as long as forever was for a child.

Suddenly, Severus returned with an entire tray piled high with fresh cherry pasties and he cautiously nudged it a little closer to her.

"I'm  _so_ sorry, Hermione," he said. "I was scared. I was so scared for you, and I thought— I didn't  _think_ — I thought you'd just gone up and let him touch you and break us apart."

She stared at him, then the pile of cherry pasties, and then back to him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Severus, realising he needed to bring out his secret weapon, pulled out his grandmother's brush and reached out to brush her wild bush of kudzu hair.

Hermione's eyes closed slightly in bliss with the attention, and Severus slowly worked in closer— closer—

He brushed as he wrapped his warm wing around her back and rubbed up against her wings.

The physical contact made their magic surge together, and Severus pressed his face into her hair, his wings wrapped around her body in a protective curl.

Within a few minutes, the two were both curled up under Master Morgan's leathery wing, fast asleep.

Kingsley sighed. "Please don't corrupt my children into bats, Manfred," he muttered.

"Dragon-bats, Kings," Morgan corrected him. "Do  _try_ to keep your species straight. I'll have them sprouting leathery wings and hanging upside down from branches in no time at all."

Kingsley facepalmed, rubbing the space between his brows. "Don't tell me you've decided to adopt them too?"

"I do seem to have lost an apprentice to a rather virulent case of utter stupidity," he replied. "Think of it as a team effort to keep these two from setting the place on fire."

Kingsley sighed, waving at him. "Fine, I'm going to bed now."

"Hanging upside down?"

"I am  _ **not**_ a bat!"

"Dragon-bat."

"Merlin's saggy man-tits, Morgan!"

"Hush, you berk, there are children sleeping here," Morgan said, laying his head protectively over the two children.

Kingsley threw up his hands and stormed off to his bedroom, muttering something in what may or may not have been a less-than-uncharitable comment about sodding fruit bats.

"I may be old, but I can still  _hear_ you, Kings."

Kings walked into the shower and stepped into the water on full blast to drown out the sound of Morgan's ribbing.

In the other room, a long, almost serpentine tongue stretched out, snagged a cherry pastie, and drew it smoothly into the dragon-bat's mouth.

Just rewards for a job well done.

One of the Gwyllgi whined hopefully, eyeing the elder dragon-bat.

"No," Morgan said firmly, closing his eyes and following the children into sleep.

* * *

Amelia smiled as the children cavorted and practiced flight with Manfred and Kingsley, enjoying the opportunity to watch them chasing the elder dragon-bat around. Older than many, the old wizard was still a prime specimen of wings and speed, and he taught them how to catch and transfer objects between them in flight. Meanwhile, Kingsley enjoyed teaching them target wayfinding.

The pair had recovered from the stress of the attack with only temporary distress, and it lightened Amelia's heart to see them so willing to play and learn from good old Manfred as well as Kingsley. Kingsley had the forward thinking and adaptability, and Manfred was an excellent teacher of survival skills on the wing as well as the art of mind magic.

Looking forward, she realised it was probably a good thing that the pair had two masters. They were a handful of curiosity meeting suspicion. They needed the combination of Manfred's steady traditionalism with Kingsley's flexibility to find that common ground. That and both wizards needed to sleep sometime.

Amelia felt sorrow for Manfred's condition, even though he didn't show such pain to the children. Stewart had been an angry but talented mindmage in the making, but while he had grown significantly, part of him had already been too broken. His attempt to break an established magical bond was cruel, yes, but also akin to murder. More often than not, breaking a strong bond caused the survivor to die too, or pine away to their own death. Worst of it, the bond between master and apprentice was usually very strong, and Manfred always threw himself deeply into bonding with his various apprentices due to the seriousness of the kind of work he had to teach—the sort of thing that required instant response and obedience to avoid hurting someone by accident—but he also encouraged other children to clamber over him to learn what they could. He was patience incarnate with a scary exterior, proof that the true value of a person was not in their looks.

 

 

A part of him was deeply wounded by the loss of Stewart, even though he wasn't dead. There was that part that was missing, and Amelia hoped that his adoption of Severus and Hermione would prove healing for both parties. So far, so good.

She chuckled as she watched Severus and Hermione climbing over Manfred as they tried to get the ball he was moving around above and under him. Such games were fun ways to train the pair for more advanced retrievals that involved living things, but they didn't need to know that yet.

At one point, Severus got the ball, and Manfred pounced him, pinning him.

Amelia stiffened, expecting Severus' past to flash him back to his father's abuse.

But Severus was laughing and passed the ball to Hermione. Hermione crowed in victory and flew off with it only to be caught by Kingsley.

Amelia relaxed. Things  _were_ getting better. Once the bonds were cemented between the two masters and their ornery young winged charges, more challenging lessons would begin that required the pair to not only work together but apart— and that was something that would require the two to be firmly bonded and stable before any attempts to separate them for independent study could happen.

It would take time, but that was okay. They would be better than fine in the end.

* * *

Time Passed…

* * *

"Master Morgan!"

"Hrm?"

"May Severus and I go to Diagon Alley?"

The dragon-bat sniffed slightly, giving Hermione the critical eye. "Studies done? Assignments piled on Kingsley in an insufferably large pile?"

Kingsley gave him the fingers from the other side of the room.

The old dragon-bat smiled, a mouth full of sharp teeth and wicked pleasure. "Excellent." He scratched his wing with his foot. "You  _do_ realise this is around the time when mad hordes of students preparing for Hogwarts are out getting their supplies, yes? Perhaps if you wait a few weeks—"

The two children frowned almost as obviously as a wilting flower.

"Oh, I  _suppose_ ," Manfred said with indifference, even as his eyes sparkled. "Go take one of the small pouches from my shelf there and be sure you hide your wings in public. You do not have to wear the full uniform, however. You don't want anyone to think Diagon Alley is under investigation by mini-Unspeakables."

Kingsley snorted.

"What are the three Ds, children?"

"Destination, Determination, and Deliberation," the pair chimed together.

"Remember that if you feel fuzzy-headed at any time, use the Floo to the Ministry instead on your way back. Do not risk Apparition without proper focus. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," they replied.

"Off with you then."

Severus fetched the small coin pouch from the shelf and showed it to Morgan before leaving, all smiles.

"You realise they are going to sit inside Flourish and Blotts and Amanuensis Quills for pretty much the entire day, yes?" Kingsley said.

"Oh, they may surprise you and actually get ice cream," Morgan chuckled. "Right after they oogle their way through Slug and Jiggers Apothecary."

Kingsley sighed. "I forgot to tell them to get me a new silver cauldron from Potage's Cauldron Shop."

"Blow up another one, Kings?"

"Shut it."

"Well I know that Severus and Hermione didn't—"

"I will find a use for that roll of Muggle duct tape, Morgan, I swear to Merlin."

The old dragon-bat chuckled to himself, loudly.

Kingsley sighed. "Hard to believe they are already thirteen."

"They grow up fast, old friend."

"Well, those two have always been well ahead of their physical age," Kingsley said with a sigh.

"We give them safety so they can still remember what it is to be children, Kings," Manfred said. "They still prank Amelia's office every day. It never gets old."

Kings snorted. "I think Amelia is using it to test out different wards."

"Obviously they aren't working," Morgan said.

"Not working against those two," King said. "You know as well as I that most of the masters here can't get past Amelia's wards."

Manfred grinned, all fangs. "As it should be."

* * *

Hermione shuffled closer to Severus as they arrived at the Apparition point, quickly getting out of the way so whoever else would come in after them didn't slam into them.

"Oi! You two! Aren't you a bit young to be Appar—"

Severus shot the man a look as the two showed off their apprentice pins on their collars.

"Ah, my pardon," the man said, going back to his vigil.

Hermione tsked at Severus. "That look you give people. It withers glassgan hardwort plants."

Severus shrugged. "That was a stupid question. Who else would Apparate to Diagon Alley when they know there is someone watching like him?"

Hermione chuckled. "You know he's there just in case someone splinches themselves."

Severus wrinkled his nose, unimpressed.

"Come on, sourpuss," Hermione said, giving him a gentle rub on his back with her hand. A small tug pulled at his hardlined lips, and he nodded.

They walked together down the street and the smell of sticky buns caught their senses. The stand was very close to Scribbulus Writing Instruments, and the pair seemed torn between two places to go of equal interest.

Severus' stomach growled, and he flushed slightly.

"You didn't eat breakfast today," Hermione said, her brows knit in concern.

"I was finishing the scrolls so we could go today."

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, you need to feed yourself too." She looked at the cinnamon and frosting taunted them with extra effectiveness. "Come on. We can get a cup of tea and something to eat."

Severus nodded, allowing the witch to tug him along by his hand.

"Two sticky buns and teas please," Hermione ordered, remembering to pitch her voice so they could hear her voice.

The sticky buns were as big as their two hands put together, and a small dragonet flamed the top of them to get the frosting melted just right. "There you go, miss." He placed the tray in front of her. "Seating over there is free. You'll get a nice view of the park."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said handing over some of the coins.

A plump woman with warm eyes rushed up. "Children these days. They need to eat more. She shoved some bowls of cereal and some toast as well as some tomatoes and sausage on the tray too with glasses of juice. "On me, dearies. Go have yourself some real breakfast."

"Thank you, ma'am," they chimed together with the required bow of respect that had been drilled into them since they were nine.

"Such nice children," the lady cooed approvingly. "Most kids just want to stick their hands all over the buns and then can't pay for them."

The man chuckled. "That's why we have our little Nugget here, aye?" He pet the little dragonet on the head ridges as it protectively curled around the sticky bun tray.

* * *

"Parks are  _so_ strange," Hermione said. "Feels like an atrium instead of a natural area."

Severus tilted his head, chewing on his sausage hungrily. He swallowed and said, "We kinda imprinted on a large forest as the goto standard of wild areas."

Hermione smiled. "It was a nice forest too." She nibbled on the last of her tomato before drinking down the juice. "They were very kind."

Severus nodded. "I'm not going to be able to fly for a week," he said, patting his full stomach.

Hermione grinned. "Serves you right for not eating breakfast to the point where you inhale an entire tray of breakfast in less than five minutes."

Severus grinned sheepishly. He leaned into her, satisfying his need to feel her close even though they had very carefully tucked and folded their wings under disillusionment. He tried not to eye the last of Hermione's sticky bun, but Hermione automatically ripped off a piece and put it to his mouth. He gently took it, chewing, giving her the eye.

"I know you're a bottomless pit in there," she said with a smile. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Master Shacklebolt blew up another silver cauldron yesterday," Severus said. "Maybe we should get him one."

"Again? What is he brewing? Combustion potions?" Hermione asked.

Severus shrugged. "He's rubbish at Potions.""Severus!"

"He is, you  _know_ it."

Hermione laughed. "He's N.E.W.T. level."

Severus muttered.

Hermione poked him with her elbow. "At least Master Morgan offers us challenges, yes? At least in potions. Master Shacklebolt is all about observation and adaptability."

"Unless it involves potions."

"Severus!" She gave him a playful shove.

He smiled at her, a small tug of his lips.

"Come on then," Hermione said, passing her wand over the table to clean it before taking the tray up and putting it in the pile by the vendor stand.

"Come again anytime, dears," the lady said with a smile.

"Thank you, ma'am. The breakfast was wonderful," Hermione said. Both she and Severus bowed respectfully as they left.

They walked into Scribbulus Writing Instruments to get some new quills and some sharpening knives as well as Severus' favourite ink— an ink that was black as his eyes and just as permanent. Hermione got her favourite, a deep purple ink that was almost black.

Knowing it was customary to always get something for their masters from each main shop they went to, they picked up two dictating quills for their masters and the pot of annoying red marking ink they loved so much. They carefully packed and shrank it down, putting them in Severus' bag before moving on to the next store.

Eyelops was as busy as they'd ever seen it, and everything from owls and bats waited for that right someone. Little kids, probably just the age to enter Hogwarts, tried to reach for some of the perches only to be warned off by their parents not to stick their fingers into an owl's face.

"Owls are pretty," Hermione said.

Severus nodded. Both of them admired the owls that carried the post to and from the DoM, as the DoM simply refused to go to the paper airplane memos for more important messages.

They passed a few owl nuts to the owls before moving on.

As they walked by one store, they saw a new broom being set down on a pedestal in the front window. Hermione stared at it strangely. "Why the fascination with brooms?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Most people can't fly without them," Severus answered.

"But on a stick with—"

Severus sighed. "They play games with them too, remember? Quidditch."

"It seems so unsafe," Hermione fretted.

"You realised how odd that sounds considering—" Severus said.

Hermione slumped. "I know, it's just— it's so unnatural."

Severus snorted and rubbed the spot behind her neck between the shoulder blades that made her relax and also realise he was ribbing her. She murmured in appreciation and smiled up at him. Severus smiled at her, his dark eyes softening as they often did when it came to Hermione.

Someone yanked the broom out from the display window and placed a card with "Sold" written on it, and the shopkeeper handed the broom to a young man with shaggy black hair and an arrogant stance. He thrust it to his mop-haired friend with a grin. "There ya go, James. You'll win for Gryffindor for sure. Best broom of the age, yeah?"

The boys rushed out of the store, plowing right into Hermione. She gave a sharp yelp of surprise, and Severus stood in front of her, giving the two older boys a glare that belied his smaller stature. Hermione peered out from behind him, and one of the boys appraised her, his grey eyes looking her up and down.

"Mrrrr, James.  _Meow_."

James leaned on his new broom. "Hello there, beautiful," he purred.

Hermione eyed him curiously, her emerald eyes seeming to evaluate the older boy, wariness written all over her face as she peered at him from behind Severus' shoulder

"You don't have to hide behind him, kitten," the other boy said flirtatiously. "Why don't you come with us and we can show you a great time?"

The mop-haired boy touched her shoulder, perhaps in an unsubtle effort to herd Hermione away from the protection of Severus' back, and at the jolt of physical contact (telepathy? Or would it be Legilimency since it's touch) caused Hermione to gasp, clutching her head as unwanted emotions and memories rushed in. She hadn't been prepared for the contact. She hadn't had time to raise her shields and what she was reading from the boy was alarming in its unexpected intensity.

Severus moved in front again, blocking her off from the older boys. His mouth moved, but no sound came, but the fury in his eyes all did the talking for him. Their ability to talk in the range of normal humans went to the wayside under stress, and nothing was more stressful than getting a headful of memories from a person she didn't even know.

"Oh, look, he's going all protective, James. How… cute."

"You're right, you're right, Sirius," the other boy laughed. "Afraid maybe she'll think we're far more interesting than the likes of  _you_ , perhaps?"

"That wouldn't be very hard, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Severus placed his head over Hermione's, his thumb brushing lightly against her temple, and she looked up at him with visible relief and thanks. She silently tugged on Severus' sleeve, and he nodded as they tried to walk away towards another shop only to come to a screeching halt just as Lily Evans walked out of Potage's Cauldron Shop, giggling with two other teenage girls as they walked the alley arm-in-arm.

"Come on, little kitten, don't be like that," Sirius cooed enticingly.

"At least give us your name, love, so we can owl each other, yeah?" James said, clearly not ready to give up.

" _ **Hermione?!"**_  Lily screeched, stopping dead in her tracks as she gaped at her long-lost little sister in total astonishment.

"Hermione?" James repeated, arching an inquisitive brow at the gobsmacked look on Lily's face.

"Hermione, is it?" Sirius said, grinning wolfishly. "At last we have a name."

"No, you're  _dead_ ," Lily gasped. "You  _have_ to be! You ran away, you never came back and no trace of you was ever found!"

Hermione's face hardened. Her hand moved into Severus', and his closed firmly around hers with an automatic clasp.

"Wha? You  _know_ this pretty little bird, Evans?" Sirius asked, a huge grin spreading across his face. "Come on, you should be happy now, Evans. James finally found someone to focus on instead of  _you_."

"You're nothing but a bloody toe-rag, Sirius Black, just like Potter here," Lily hissed furiously. "No one with a functional brain would ever want to be around the likes of you."

"Oh, come on Evans, be a sport and just give us a chance," James said coaxingly.

"No. Hermione?  _ **Hermione!**_  Where the—"

Hermione and Severus had disappeared.

* * *

"Are they gone yet?" Hermione asked, cautiously poking her head around the stacks at Flourish and Blotts.

Severus nodded. "I think they all went into Madam Malkin's," he replied.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"So, that was Lily, huh?"

"Yeah—"

"She's got quite a temper."

"So does Petunia I think they both get it from mum's side of the family," Hermione said. "Mum isn't really as bad as they are, but Auntie Albertine is a flaming ball of wrath if you tread on her in  _any_ way, shape or form.."

Severus nodded. "I got my da's looks, unfortunately. Hopefully none of his ugly personality."

Hermione rubbed his back between his wings to offer comfort. He relaxed and gave her a thankful look as his face lost its rather pinched look.

"You okay, Hermione? Seeing your sister, that is."

Hermione nodded. I just wasn't ready for that right after I got that blast from that— James? When he touched me, I got a big dose of his vile perusal of adult magazines with his friend."

Severus arched a brow. "Nasty."

Hermione smiled. "Obliviate me?"

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Severus said.

"It's odd though. I saw them in this place without doors or windows and this strangely violent willow tree. A map that tracks everyone. And—"

Hermione gave Severus an odd look. "One of them had antlers. The other had dog ears and a tail. A friend of theirs had this odd naked rat tail coming out of his butt. And there was this "

"Out of his butt? Or like… off his butt?"

"Ew, Severus. You  _know_ what I mean."

"Just making sure," Severus placated. "You know how Kingsley drills us on particulars."

Hermione slumped. "Yeah, I know."

"I'd give our masters time to pick your brain for the memories when we get back. It sounds like they could make better sense of it, and they seem.. Odd."

Hermione nodded. "I guess. I just— Maybe that is just how things are at Hogwarts, you know?"

"Well, it wouldn't take long for our masters to tell the difference, yeah? And—" Severus looked at her.

Hermione looked into his concerned eyes.

"I worry for you— you know— you pick up a  _lot_ of things by touch. Much easier than I do. It's that healer thing, I get it, but—"

Hermione touched his wrist with her fingers. "I will when we get back. I promise."

"Thank you," he replied, pressing his forehead to hers.

"We should go get that cauldron for Master Shacklebolt," Hermione suggested.

"Good idea," he agreed. "Shall we go to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch after?"

Hermione nodded. "We can get take-away for our masters too."

Snape nodded.

"Woof!"

Hermione and Severus looked down to see one of their Gwyllgi wagging its tail as it drooled happily over a very familiar broom that was clutched in its mouth.

"Shite," Severus cursed.

Another had a box that bore the seal of Slug and Jiggers Apothecary.

Hermione facepalmed as the Gwyllgi looked up at them, panting proudly, their tails wagging and looking quite proud of themselves.

"Bad… hellhounds," Hermione tried to say, but she pet them between the ears at the same time, which only made the Gwyllgi even happier.

Severus looked at the name scrawled on the paper.

Lily Evans

Severus scratched his head. "We need an adult."

* * *

Lunch at the Leaky was happily uneventful thanks to change in appearance. Severus did Hermione's and Hermione did his just enough that they didn't look anything like they had earlier.

"I'm glad Master Shacklebolt taught us how to conceal ourselves, but I didn't think I'd have to do it while out shopping for school supplies," Hermione said quietly.

"I'd rather not have a repeat of that mess earlier," Severus said.

Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I suppose."

"Did you see they had a new bathhouse here?" Severus asked. "Seems like an odd thing to have in Diagon Alley."

"Being clean is good?" Hermione said.

"They call it a bath spa," Severus said.

Hermione hummed dreamily. "I really like massages. Do you think they do them there?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "They might be a little unnerved by the invisible wings."

Hermione pouted. "Not fair."

He gave her a look. "If you go to Master Morgan when we get back, I'll give you one tonight after our bath."

Hermione perked. "Really?"

Severus huffed at her. "Would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"Maybe," Hermione said speculatively. "You are a boy, and Master Morgan says that boys say a lot of things to females they don't mean."

Severus grunted. "I don't."

Hermione rubbed his wrist gently, filling her mind with her gentle teasing flag of surrender.

He smiled, and they parted touching when the food came.

"Today's special toad in a hole," Tom said as he brought them the food.

"Thank you!" Hermione said, accidentally forgetting to pitch her voice in the right range.

"Thank you," Severus said, making up for her mistake.

"You're welcome," Tom said cheerfully. "Enjoy! Make sure to feed a cold, miss. Losing your voice is rough business."

Hermione blushed and nodded.

They clinked their pumpkin juice glasses together and drank deeply. Severus cut the toad in a hole out of the heated dish and scooped up some for Hermione and then himself.

Meanwhile, a very happy Gwyllgi was laying at their feet under the table chewing on a juicy sausage it had nicked from… somewhere.

"Tom, did you see the string of sausages I had hanging over the pot?"

"No, Marie, I thought you used them all."

"I think I'm losing my mind," the witch said.

Hermione and Severus looked under the table at the same time to see the wide eyes of a certain Gwyllgi staring back at them.

They left an extra good tip on the table in a silent apology for their hellhounds' hunger-fueled mischief.

* * *

When Kingsley put up his new silver cauldron and found the duo engaging in massage, his brain took a right plunge into the sea of perpetual chaos and had him flailing mentally for a good fifteen minutes before finally gathering his wits enough to send Amelia an emergency S.O.S Patronus.

It was perfectly innocent— they were doing it right there in the sitting room, there was absolutely no shyness in them about it, but—

He realised his two apprentices were growing up fast and "the talk" needed to happen sooner rather than later. The pair were already thick as thieves and as close as oysters on an oyster bed, but he really hadn't prepared himself for the talk.

At  _all_.

In his head, they were still only nine.

Sure, Severus was fourteen and Hermione would be soon, but  _ **GAH!**_

Why couldn't Morgan have been the one to walk in on them and had to do it?!

Merlin, Morrigan, and Hecate.

Maybe if he went for a nice dip in the brain tank he could postpone it—

Manfred flew in and rustled through the shelf to get something before hustling out.

Just as Kingsley tried to talk to him, Morgan said, "Oh, Severus, please come talk to Kingsley when you're done with that massage, and I think I'll want one later as well."

"Yes, Master," Severus replied calmly, not even skipping a beat.

Morgan flew back out, carrying some book.

 _Coward_.

Amelia arrived about a half hour later with a flask of Ogden's Special Reserve firewhisky. Yup. It was going to be one of  _THOSE_ kind of nights.

* * *

Kingsley wanted so badly to be Obliviated. "So, Severus—"

"Master?"

"You're getting a bit older now, and—"  _Oh gods… please just murder me now._  "Uh— the body goes through some changes about now. You may have, uh, noticed—"

Severus gave him an eyebrow with a very sharp angle. "Master?"

"Well, male bodies begin to go through some very specific changes, Severus."

"You mean the voice cracking thing, hair growing down there, needing to shave and all that rubbish?"

Kingsley fidgeted. "Yes, that, and certain  _other_ things that may happen while you are sleeping or early in the morning."

Severus gave him a blank stare. "You mean wet dreams, hard-ons and ejaculation?"

Kingsley tried in vain to focus on the rather impressive spider web adorning the corner and not Severus' face. "Yes, Severus that. Um— I know you're quite into research, and you've probably read all about it, but okay, you know how Hermione caught some unwelcome male attention today in Diagon Alley."

"They were  _idiots_."

"Yes, they probably were, but— Hermione's starting to change too, and she may find herself attracting the fancy of other boys now and again."

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"You and she may find yourself interested in other people in a way that seems a lot like what you have with Hermione now only more— possessive. People pair off, enjoy each other's company, and they show more interest in touching each other. Intimately, I mean."

Severus gave him a completely deadpan look, not even the smallest muscle twitch to give Kings a tell.

 _Just kill me now,_  Kings thought desperately.  _Unforgivable right to the face. Please?_

"Okay, if you get in an intimate situation with a witch or a wizard—"

"What?" Severus said.

Kings winced. "You're going to need to learn how to perform the contraceptive charm and/or begin taking a potion to prevent any, ah… accidents."

"Accidents… like accidentally tripping and impaling someone on my  _cock?"_

Kingsley tried not to choke on his own saliva. "Accidents like, um, an unwanted pregnancy. Anything act that could produce a child before you have a proper home or a job to support it."

Severus gave Kings a puckered face mixed with about fifty degrees of slanted eyebrow.

"Look, Severus," Kingsley said, his face turning red. "I know you and Hermione are already very close, but should you eventually choose to pursue a more intimate relationship with her, you will need to know the charm I'm going to teach you.

Severus turned bright red and flipped his long black hair to curtain his now-flaming face.

"I'm not saying that you  _have_ , I'm just— oh gods," Kingsley cursed. "You understand that being prepared for any possibility is the best way to handle all situations, yes?"

"Yes," Severus said quietly, staring at his hands in his lap.

"Okay, this is a really important spell but you don't need a wand to cast it. Are you ready?"

"Yes, master," Severus said, a slight squeak in his reply.

Kingsley took in a deep, relieved breath. "Okay."

* * *

When the two blushing teens shambled back into the common room, one from Amelia and one from Kingsley, they met in front of the bedroom and stared at each other, their wings trembling with disquiet.

"Um, yeah—  _the_ talk," Severus said a bit shakily.

"Yeah—" Hermione said, looking flustered.

"I don't plan on  _ever_ seeing another witch or bloke, you know," Severus confessed suddenly.

Hermione scratched her head. "Mmm... 'kay."

"And when those two tossers came up and started hitting on you today, I wanted to hex them both. With  _fire_."

Hermione's eyes widened at that. "Okay." She trembled a little, and it seemed as though it was taking every bit of Severus' self-control not to immediately tend to her as usual.

"Did you— um— ever fancy another bloke or—" Severus swallowed hard. "Witch?"

Hermione's wings shot straight to the side like they'd been zapped with lightning. " _ **No!"**_  She turned her face to the side and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"This is really awkward," Severus said.

"Yes."

"Can we just go to bed and pretend this embarrassing conversation didn't happen?"

"Merlin, yes," Hermione said, fleeing to the bedroom to "fix up the nest."

As Hermione slipped into the nest, Severus slipped in behind her, wrapping his wings around her as usual. She snuggled into him and let out a contented sigh as the Gwyllgi snuggled in with them.

Kingsley and Amelia, however, drank for another hour before staggering to bed.

* * *

Severus discovered some time after that "talk" that he had a problem. He noticed more frequently when Hermione worked with others at the DoM, and he noticed them even more easily when they were  _male_.

He tried to squelch such things in his head because it wasn't like he wasn't working with other witches while he did his studies, and Hermione was a healer in the making. Touch was very important to her skill set.

Yet, he couldn't help but feel even more reassured when she came home after her long trainings, her time in the infirmary's, and her time learning healing out in the field with Master Morgan— the warm touch of her wings wrapped around his back as her body curled up next to him that if she should choose someone else— be with someone else that he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to let go of that closeness.

Hermione, however, was always so warm and compassionate. She was always a beacon. How could she  _not_ attract— anyone with a pulse?

His blurted confession had confused her; that much he knew. In her mind, of course he wouldn't have thought about other girls. She hadn't thought of other guys either, not like  _that_. Hell, neither of them had until Kingsley and Amelia had…

It was true, he realised. He had no grounds in which to make such a claim of having no other attract his eye. It wasn't like either of them had experience there. How much of it was because he was afraid of losing what he already had versus truly desiring something more? Why was he even thinking of that?

Oh he'd read the books. Hell, they both had, swapping books with each other to learn the anatomy and biological changes, blushing as they went along. Yet— he couldn't help but feel a strange tug to explore the "more."

And he was drawn to her. He always was. He couldn't even imagine a life without Hermione in it.

* * *

Little did Severus know, that over the next year, he would be paired with a witch for his studies who was bright, talented, and— stirred something in him physically. She was an American— visiting with another master, and they were both studying the same things. She was a fireball of talent and she—  _fancied_ him.

She made time for him, laughed with him, and touched him, her small caresses doing horrible things to his self control. Hermione's touches had always been kind, familiar— but this witch, this Mia, undid his familiar and replaced it with such searing need.

Whether he realised it or not, this witch had cast a different sort of spell on him: his first crush.

* * *

He was sixteen when he shared his first kiss with Mia, and it had led to lustful, awkward experimentation. The significance he hadn't truly understood until he came home and found Hermione brushing her own hair and grooming her wings by herself, painstakingly grooming each feather and spreading oil on them with the touches she had normally reserved for his feathers.

His grandmother's brush lay on the dresser as a stone settled in his stomach. He came to her, reaching for her familiar warmth with guilt in his heart.

"Don't  _touch_ me," she said, dropping her brush. Her eyes were almost black— the sign of the healer's forcible use of Occlumency to keep her patients out of her mind. "You smell of  _her_. You smell of sex."

Her voice was flat, empty. She closed her eyes. "I care for you," she said quietly. "I want you to be happy. I hope— she makes you… happy. I do. But I will not dishonour you or her by sleeping with you while you are with another. They would not understand. How  _could_ she?"

For the first time, Hermione stayed away from his touch, painfully extricating herself from the familiar touch of him. He felt her conflict— never once had they not shared the same nest, not since the change. But she had smelled Mia on him. Mia's sweat and fluid still clung to places that he had yet to wash— and then he had tried to touch  _HER…_

And she was a  _touch_ Legilimens…

Gods… what would she have seen?

He cared for Mia or he would never have— but  _why_ did he feel so terribly guilty? Why was the bond that had come so easily before seem so hard to connect to now?

Hermione walked out of the room they had shared for upwards of seven years, walked into the room they had never used, and closed the door firmly behind her.

For the first time in seven years, Severus Snape slept alone save for a few of the Gwyllgi that seemed to take pity on him, and even those he suspected were only allowed with him because Hermione could not stand the scent of Mia upon them, transferred when they had greeted him upon coming home.

His sleep was restless.

When he could take it no longer, he dressed to go to his lessons, and as he passed the other room, the door was cracked but a little. He looked in to see Master Morgan with Hermione curled under his wings like he had so long ago. She curled up against him with her hands desperately clinging to his fur as her face buried against his leathery wings. Morgan's head lifted, his glowing eyes seemingly boring into him.

He said nothing, but his wing draped even more around the sleeping Hermione, offering her the comfort that Severus had denied her.

* * *

" _ **You!"**_  Mia screeched as she tore a path of fire into the infirmary.

"Apprentice Conner." Hermione replied tersely

"What do you  _ **mean**_ to Severus?"

"I assure you, whatever it may be, it is not what you think."

"Do you  _ **LOVE**_ him?!"

"Of course I do."

"You keep your hands off him!"

"I assure you, I have not dishonoured him. He is faithful to you."

"I don't believe you!"

"That does not make it less the truth, and would you dishonour him now by doubting his fidelity?"

She grabbed Hermione's arm, and Hermione hissed in pain before her shields could snap into place.

"You— you've been  _ **sleeping**_ with him!"

_**SLAP!** _

Hermione went tumbling backwards into a shelf of potions. The potions pooled together and combined into a hissing, burning conglomerate. The powerful, emotionally charged accidental magic Mia had thrown at her had broken things both inside and outside of her body. Hermione's wings flipped outward, sizzling, burning in agonising slowness.

Mia went stumbling backward as Hermione let out what, to her, seemed like a silent scream. Her feathers were  _burning_. Her skin was smoking. Her eyes blazed emerald fire as the ground rumbled, and the Gwyllgi emerged from the ground, magma dripping from their mouths as they snarled. But they were not alone.

Dark black talons pulled the bulk of something large through the floor. Slime dripped and hit the floor, causing it to sizzle. Feathers as hard as dragon scales flared in a mane around the beast's massive head as black lips pulled back in a vicious snarl. Heavy horns curved upward from the skull as the rest of the body moved up from the "hole" in the ground—

The chaos beast.

The air reverberated with the name:  _Tiamat_.

Wings filled the room, metal and feather, light and heavy, sharp and soft all at once. Infernal fires blazed within its gaze.

First it had been a quadruped, but now the beast stood up on two legs as its wings wrapped around Hermione, its slime dripping down her body to extinguish the acids and alkaline burns on her body, even as it seem to turn to water, to vapour, and then back to slime.

Chaos swirled around the beast's snarling mouth as its eyes began to glow emerald green as the Covenant formed between it and its Summoner. Vapour, shaped sharply like the edges of a design, floated into Hermione's lungs as she breathed, and her body shuddered as her pain began to ease. Her broken, burnt wings filled in with the beast's chaotic magic— its self, making itself into each feather one by one as it layered into "fixing" its mistress.

 _Command me,_ the beast hissed, its malevolent gaze upon Mia.

 _Command us,_  the Gwyllgi howled.

_We will devour her._

The masters were there, and Mia gasped as the darkened, almost demonic shape of Master Morgan flew in. Much to her terror, the great beasts bowed to him, moving out of the way for him to take Hermione into his arms.

"Hermione!" he growled, breathing a deep blue and green vapour into her mouth and nose.

Her chest rose and fell more regularly. "Master?"

"Oh, my child. If you would be so kind as to tell your very angry friends to be at peace?"

Hermione seemed dazed, confused. "Yes, master," she replied, instantly obedient to her master's guidance.

The Gwyllgi nuzzled her and disappeared even as Tiamat glowered a moment longer before fading into the ground.

"Good child," Morgan crooned, using his wing to touch her forehead.

Severus flew in, staggering as his wings folded and he tripped through the entry way.

" _ **Hermione?!"**_

"No child," Morgan said sternly. "Do not dishonour her sacrifice now in front of your chosen witch."

Severus looked to Mia for the first time, his face shaken and more pale.

" _ **I**_  will take care of her," Morgan said as Kingsley arrived, holding Severus back from doing something that would have made the situation even worse. "Madam Kerns, please tend to Hermione's remaining patients today."

"Yes, Master Morgan," the mediwitch said, deferentially bowing her head.

"Wh-why didn't she defend herself?" Severus asked.

As Morgan passed with Hermione in his wings, Hermione's emerald eyes burned as she eyed Mia.

"You take care of him," she said quietly. "Because if you don't, the next time you attack me, I will not stand and take it to the face to spare him the pain of watching you  _writhe_."

Mia swallowed hard, shaking as she realised Severus had heard the entire thing.

* * *

Mia's behaviour took a turn for the better after the incident, though if it was by fear of Hermione or fear of her own master's punishment, no one but her knew the truth. Her attack on Hermione, had been ruled a case of accidental magic, mostly because Hermione insisted it was emotionally charged due to Mia's accidental breach of her personal mental shields.

Severus knew it was a  _lie_.

The masters, too, knew it was a lie, but they honoured her wishes and did not punish Mia more than for fighting with another Apprentice.

If anything, Mia had become very clingy, as if she feared Severus would abandon her, but as much as he both found no fault and hated himself for it, he cared for her. She would hover, waiting for him to finish his joint lessons with Hermione, giving him not even a moment of peace to refind the gentle rapport they had always had before Mia's vicious attack.

Hermione had withdrawn further into herself, into the healing arts and her defensive magic, even while he had focused on offensive and protective. He had always been drawn to protect her, and that had not changed. And together— they were one the same, two flames made one against the darkness. And just when some sort of lurking epiphany tried to break free of his tortured mind and heart— the lesson would end, and Hermione's warmth would withdraw again as she put up all her shields once more— protecting herself… from  _him_.

Half of the Gwyllgi would follow her as the rest would mill about around him.

But the Tiamat— she didn't trust him. She tracked him with purely hateful eyes every time she tended to her mistress' needs, almost as if she blamed  _him_ for the pain Hermione felt—even though Hermione had wanted him happy and even though Hermione had done all she could to preserve HIS honour. Unlike with the Gwyllgi, they did not share Tiamat. No, Tiamat was Hermione's personal chaos beast and the only non-chaotic thing about her was that she was loyal unto death to Hermione. She would kill, maim, destroy, or help at her command, but even more scarily, she would be kind and tolerate the young children in the DoM because Hermione  _wanted_ her to.

What would happen if he married his witch? He would be partnered with Hermione, possibly until death, due to their unique bond that allowed their magic to be shared. Could he possibly balance a marital bond intimacy with magical intimacy?

More importantly— could Mia?

* * *

The martial attack practice had taken Severus and tore him to pieces. He'd held his own for quite some time, but there was someone a bit better, more focused, and less crippled by being blocked from one half of their team.

The moment he was dragged off the combat field, healers were swarming over all of those who were taken out. The moment he felt the cool touch on his forehead and his neck, he knew who was tending him.

Hermione— her mind heavily shielded— touched his face in the points that allowed her to scan his body and his mind most efficiently. "Lie still, Severus," she said, and he realised she said it directly to his mind as well verbally. It was their secret speech that only they could hear, they and the elephants and other such beasts.

Her fingers touched his leg, and he cried out in pain, but a coolness followed and then numbness. He looked into her eyes and saw her sadness as well as her chiding him for not ducking when he should have.

"I  _did_ duck," he said quietly.

"Then you should have jumped higher," she said. There was a tug on her lips as she touched his other leg and healed the sprain.

"Oi, Evans!" a wizard grunted as he leaned on one of the barrier walls. "Why don't you fix up the lame hippogriff and show him how a real partner fights with their team instead of against?"

Hermione looked up. "I am not a martial magicker," Hermione replied.

"Well, his normal partner is down, out and definitely unconscious. Mason says she's going to stay that way until he can regrow her bones in her head."

Hermione frowned. "Someone vanished the bones in her  _head_?"

"Not on purpose," the wizard snorted. "Someone needs to take out Team Tango," he said. "They're getting pretty arrogant."

Hermione looked down at Severus, a great heaviness evident in her vivid green eyes. "We haven't teamed up in quite some time, Master Krogan."

"Hip hop," Master Krogan said confidently. "Consider this a field promotion. Get yourselves to the center of the maze and take them out with any and all of your training and talents."

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded briefly in assent. "Yes, master."

She stood, straightening her robes. "By any means at our disposal, master?"

Krogan smiled. "Give them hell."

* * *

The maze was dark and hazy, making it difficult to see. It was also very dense and covered, making it impossible to fly, so they made their way around slowly, back to back, just like old times. Wing to wing— one breath at a time. A bright bolt of magic sizzled towards them, and Severus shielded, deflecting. Another struck him on the shoulder, and Hermione's wing moved to touch it, the magic between them knitting his shoulder almost instantly. Hermione, spurred on by his injury, took on a more aggressive defense, surrounding the two of them in a blinding shield of light that shone like the sun in the dark.

Dual screams of pain rang out from further in the maze, and Hermione slammed her palms together, causing a vortex of pure blackness spread outward from their feet, covering the entire maze in the Stygian dark of the void… and the utter soundlessness of deep space.

They spread out their wings, still touching, feeling the sides of the hedges. They walked in the darkness, hearing nothing, yet sensing much more. The fleeting touch of wind, the shift or rustle of the hedges. Close. Far. All of it travelled up their wings. And all the while, their minds remained open to each other, connecting in the way they had ever since they were young children. They felt each other's movements, breaths.

"To our left," Hermione said. "There is an opening."

"To the right," Severus answered, "one is hiding in the hedges."

Hermione smiled in the dark, and Severus felt the shift in her demeanor. She stood up straighter as her mind focused.

_Chase them._

The whoosh of wind ruffled their feathers and against their skin as the Gwyllgi took off— not to kill but to drive them into chaos. And chaos it was indeed as the darkness wore off only for their opponents to be greeted by the eager bays of the primordial hounds of the underworld.

A flurry of spells came towards them, their adversaries apparently having decided that brute force would win over mere "conjured monsters" and their own fear.

But Hermione was ready with the shields, and Severus was ready with his offensive spells. The hellhounds, however, were altogether too happy with the opportunity to "play" with their un-food.

And play they  _did_.

Wild wand magic flew in all directions, and Severus finally got one of the team straight to the chest, sending him flying, and Hermione and Severus hurried up to restrain their opponent, neatly taking him out of the game.

The remaining team member was coming completely unglued and then suddenly— the sound abruptly stopped.

"Drop your wands," the older wizard said, having phased through the hedge to find them. "Send your little dogs after some bones, and then you can untie my friend over there."

"Do it." He flicked his wand threateningly.

They knelt down and started to undo the bindings. Meanwhile the one they were untying soiled his trousers, the stench and wetness traveling down his trembling legs.

"Get  _ **up**_ , Benjamin!"

The wizard shook his head frantically, whimpering and crying in abject terror, staring fixedly at something just beyond his teammates' shoulder.

An enormous looming shadow slowly rose up behind the standing wizard. He turned slowly, still pointing his wand at Severus and Hermione.

Row upon row of fearsome shining teeth dripped slime as Tiamat took the wizard into her winged embrace and merged into the ground. The wizard screamed and disappeared into the earth. Hermione and Severus took up their wands and pointed it Benjamin. "Well, looks like you'll be in those ropes a little longer."

Benjamin frantically tied himself up and lay back down on his back, whimpering piteously.

Severus wrinkled his nose and did the poor wizard a favour and Scourgified the unfortunate man's lower half before he and Hermione continued on their quest for the center of the maze.

When they got there, the only thing they found waiting for them was a stone table.

Hermione reached out to touch the table, but a wary Severus stayed her hand. "Don't touch it, it's a trap. One last attempt to take us out right when we get here."

Hermione summoned a protective bubble and placed it over the table, then Severus plucked a single feather and dropped it onto the table.

The table immediately exploded into a rain of stone-coloured spiders that slammed into the barrier and crawled around looking really, really confused.

Severus' eyebrow rose. "Ruin spiders," he said.

The spiders halted, all their glowing eyes staring at him.

" _We're Rune spiders."_

" _Do get your facts straight."_

" _Yeah, do we look ordinary to you?"_

" _They don't exactly look ordinary either."_

" _Oh, true, hrm…"_

" _Hey, you two, you look pretty cool. Want some rune spiders?"_

" _We knit things!"_

" _We garden too."_

" _We do?"_

" _Yes, we do!"_

" _If you say so…"_

" _Oh and we also terrify things by increasing our body size exponentially."_

" _Expo-_ what- _chally?_ "

" _Nentially."_

" _Gesundheit!"_

" _So, can we come home with you?"_

" _Yeah, those other guys just shoved us in a box and stuck us together."_

" _That was so mean!"_

" _It would've hurt if we had nerves everywhere."_

They peered up at Severus and Hermione, their multiple legs tapping on the barrier.

" _This thing tickles."_

" _Indeed."_

"Um… yes?" Severus said.

_**Pop!** _

The bubble burst and Severus found himself covered in rune spiders that dove into the folds of his robe hood.

" _Excellent."_

" _We have a home again!"_

" _Well, we will. He has to live somewhere, right?"_

" _I hope it's not a cardboard box on the street."_

" _That would be really depressing."_

Severus sighed, looking at Hermione. "You get a giant, terrifying chaos beast, and  _ **I**_  get spiders."

" _Helpful, talkative spiders?"_

"Oh, goodie."

Hermione and Severus linked their arms and shot a spell into the air that zipped through the top of the hedges. A bubble of magic surrounded the pair and…

_**FOOP!** _

Master Krogan stood in the park waiting for them. "Congratulations, you two," he said approvingly. "I see Morgan and Shacklebolt weren't lying about your partnership."

Both Severus and Hermione bowed respectfully.

Krogan sniffed. "I fear there is a bit of a kerfuffle going on back and the old DoM right now, so we will be enjoying this park for a time until the masters have properly secured the living areas and the practice rooms.

"What is going on, Master Krogan?" Severus asked a little tentatively

Krogan sighed. "Tea first, I think," he said, summoning a waiter with a wave.

The tea arrived with the speed of the British, as Krogan put it, and they had all downed two cups and devoured a plate of sandwiches between them before he decided it was time to talk.

"The healers had to shave Apprentice Conners' head before they could begin the bone regrowing process and when they did, they discovered a tattoo on her scalp."

"Kind of an odd place for a tattoo," Hermione observed, tilting her head.

"No ordinary thing," Krogan said with a small shudder. "It was an  _evil_ thing. That tattoo is a Dark Mark, and it was given to her by a rising Dark wizard who calls himself Voldemort. Lord Voldemort."

Severus went still. Very still.

"Before the healer could report it, she woke and— well, there is no good way to say this. She ensorcelled him. Seems Conners possesses some sort of innate talent to, ah… bend members of the male sex to her will. Seems she's able to enchant them and turn the love they feel for others into a "love" for herself. Veela blood in her family, perhaps. It was a talent she did everything in her power to hide. Something kept us from detecting it."

"She had a necklace, it had some kind of bird charm on it. She never took it off," Severus whispered. "Even when we— she said it was a gift from her grandmother."

"Healers keep all of the personal effects from their patients in a warded drawer at the front. They are given their possessions back only when they are approved to leave," Hermione said.

"Old Rookwood is the one who approved Conners joining the program," Krogan said. "Said she was excellent talent. Old family friend's granddaughter. Amelia is locking everything down."

"But why are we here?" Hermione asked. "Why aren't we helping?"

"Morgan and Kingsley are helping, but—" Krogan sighed. "We found a coded message while you two were still in the maze. Came via owl. Our Arithmancers made pretty quick work of it. It said, 'Bring me the Snape boy, and kill the spare'."

_**Crack!** _

The water glass in Snape's hand shattered, and his blood mixed with the water, but his expression was of stone cold fury. His hair began to rise up and writhe as if whipped by invisible winds and his hands trembled. "So, she wasn't satisfied with raping my body, she had to rape my mind too?"

Fury seeped from his body in visible waves. "I really thought I loved her."

His fists clenched. "But it wasn't love for her. It was my love for Hermione turned to  _her_ — and I hurt her."

"I  _hurt_ her."

"I made her  _cry_."

"I was supposed to  _ **PROTECT**_ her!"

The Gwyllgi rose up from the ground in a cloud of black smoke, baying in response to their master's fury, and tore off into the Aether—

" _ **Severus, NO!"**_  Hermione cried, rushing up to him.

The moment her hand closed over his, she felt wave after wave of his searing anger, betrayal, frustration, and emotional pain.

I hurt you.

It wasn't your fault.

I  _HURT_ you!

Severus, it was an evil, twisted power.

But I hurt you!

It happens, Severus. Hurt happens. But I forgave you.

_Anguish._

_Pain._

_Self-flagellation._

I don't deserve to be forgiven.

You have nothing to be ashamed of. She  _used_ you.

Severus' power flared ominously, threatening to consume him and raze every single pathway as it went.

"Severus," Hermione said out loud.

Blackness spiralled downward.

Down, down, down—

Hermione wrapped her wings around his back and pressed her mouth firmly to his in a kiss.

Severus' eyes snapped open wide as his wings wrapped reflexively around Hermione's back and his hands planted on the sides of her face. Their magic came together, joyously dancing through them both and then it merged completely. The malevolent miasma seemed to fade away like fog before the rising sun.

Hermione pulled away as he stared at her blankly for a long moment, and then he turned from her guiltily as his mind swam with the memory of his past deeds. She tried to get him to look at her, but she stared down and away, hyperventilating for a new reason.

"Severus."

"Yes."

Do you feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel like you deserve to be punished or some such rot to feel better about what happened with her?"

"Yes."

"And if you are punished, will you finally stop staring at the ground?"

"Yes."

_**Thwap!** _

Severus' eyes bulged in shock as Hermione's slender knee nailed him squarely between the legs.

" _Ouch."_

" _That looked seriously painful."_

" _Good thing we were up here."_

" _Yup."_

" _Should she ever ask if we desire punishment, you say no!"_

" _Definitely no."_

The Rune spiders scurried back under the relative safety of Severus' hood.

Severus crumpled to the ground, curling up in the fetal position as he saw stars.

"That… ouch," Kingsley said, fighting back a smirk as he appeared nearby. "I came expecting to have to break the news to you, but it seems that the rampaging pack of vengeful hellhounds situation has been handled."

The Gwyllgi milled about curiously, nuzzling and snuffling Severus as he lay on the ground, moaning in pain.

Hermione extended her hand. "Does my wrathful retribution for your recent behaviour suit your need for some sort of punishment, Severus?"

"That. and. More," Severus wheezed painfully as he pulled himself up.

"Can we  _please_ go back to stuff like hugging and making fun of Master Shacklebolt?"

"Yes," Severus answered a bit sheepishly.

"Hey!" Kingsley protested. "How is that even right?"

"You would prefer I put him back into his previous state of desiring to obliterate the entire DoM on a quest for blind vengeance?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"No thank you!" Master Krogan said with feeling, smacking Kingsley soundly upside the head.

Severus stared down at his toes.

Kingsley sniffed. "DoM is clear, but I need you two to go back to our quarters and stay there until we can track down Mia's contact on the inside. There may be more than one. We can't be sure. Somehow she was getting owls from the outside using our owls, so either the messages came direct or they were owled to someone else before they were sent on to her."

"And you, Severus, should probably go dip your lower half in an ice water bath before you grow a pair the size of bludgers," Kingsley said with a delicate cough. "Off with you now."

Severus grunted and nodded, wincing as he stepped forward. Hermione's hand closed over his.

_**Crack!** _

They were gone.

* * *

As Severus' hand ran across Hermione's silky feathers, his gut twisted as his body reminded him just how much he'd missed her. With over a year in a relationship with Mia, he had been prepared to plan for a future with her— a future he  _should_ have been planning with Hermione. A love he would have had with her, had it not been hijacked and turned to another person.

The guilt, well, that was nothing new.

He'd felt guilty from the very moment when he came home and realised his actions had cut him off from Hermione's warmth. He'd felt incredibly guilty even as he was making love to Mia in a perfectly monogamous relationship.

Perhaps, a part of him had  _always_ known.

His inner compass had always pointed him straight back to Hermione, even as his screwed up sense of love and lust had pointed him away.

He pressed his nose into her feathers, inhaling their warm spice-like scent that seemed like fresh-ground nutmeg with a chaser of sweet cinnamon. Chaos dripped from them thanks to the deep bond with Tiamat and her injuries the chaos beast had healed for her sake.

A stab of raw guilt came again, knowing that she had been hurt by Mia.

He brushed her hair, savouring the tug of her hair as his grandmother's brush found its way through her lush waves. She murmured her appreciation, wings fluttering. His hands spread the warm oil over her feathers, shaft to shaft, tending them with fierce attention to detail.

She had actually brushed his hair and preens his wings before she even let him near hers. She had said it was to make up for the cold soak he was forcing on himself. He found it amusing considering he'd asked for it in more ways that could be counted. But then— she'd never been one to a llow him to suffer long.

So, even as she welcomed him back into her winged embrace, a part of him was still discomfited.

Mia still existed, connected to that Dark lord. Voldemort.

_Bring me the boy. Kill the spare._

Yet, for now, Hermione desired his attention, and he would give it. The feel of her pressed against him was all he required.

But something wasn't quite right.

"I sense it too," Hermione said, her voice barely a whisper. "Normally I can sense them easily," she explained. "But I cannot right now."

Severus frowned. He  _felt_ it— the tug towards Mia, even now. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Even knowing it was a lie, it still existed.

"Severus," Hermione said, turning as she met his eyes. "I want to do a deep scan of your mind."

He looked at her, confused, and then he realised why he was confused and nodded with a sharp jerk of his head. "Do it."

He felt her in his mind— the lightest touch of a feather across his little grey cells. She seemed to be inside his skull, her gentle fingers pulling apart each coil of his mind to look for that one thing that was out of place. Then, he felt the tendrils of her chaos, ironically controlled like a scalpel, thrust into the crevices that attempted to hide from her.

" _Of course, you're not going to remember this, Sev, but when we get married, I'm going to take you straight to the Dark Lord and make you one of us. You won't be able to help yourself. Since you love_ _ **me**_ _. So. Very. Much."_

" _You should really be honoured, you know. Our Lord wants only the best, and that's you, loverboy. And since your partner is nothing but a useless freak, we'll just have to get rid of her, won't we, darling? Before I take you to Him, we'll just have to remove those stupid wings of yours. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be normal? Of course you would. Just like I want to actually look my real age instead of being stuck as this perpetually young chit. Well, soon enough, pet. You'll just forget your little contraceptive charm and get me pregnant, and all that weakness you have for the brat will tie you even more tightly to me. How does that sound, Sev? I thought so. Good boy."_

Gotcha, Hermione's voice rang through his mind. A blast of her power spread through every fold of his brain, purifying it from the remnants of Mia's insidious influence.

Her chaos pooled and spread like a surfactant across his mind, and the last, screaming remnants of Mia's hooks began to dissolve.

" _ **Nooo! No! He's mine, you bitch!"**_  Mia's voice screamed.

Blackness began to rapidly spread its roots throughout Severus' mind, and he clutched his head.

" _ **Kill her, Sev. Kill her for me!"**_

Severus' hands went around Hermione's throat, a blank expression on his face.

Suddenly , Hermione's body began to burn with purple flames of chaos even as Tiamat rose up behind her. "Didn't I tell you, Mia? To take care of Severus? But instead, you infest his mind with this foul stench?" Hermione's eyes began to glow bright green. "But to control him, you had to leave pieces of yourself here— and Tiamat… is hungry. She will chase it down and devour it all, replacing your taint with her Chaos, and it will consume you."

Hermione grasped Severus' wrists, digging her fingeres into his skin. "I will make you writhe," Hermione said, her voice far too calm.

" _ **I HAVE YOUR MASTERS!"**_  Mia screamed in rage. " _ **HURT ME AND THEY DIE TOO!"**_

Hermione laughed, her lips turned into a wicked smile. "I don't have to do hurt you physically, do I, Mia?"

"What?"

Darkness filled Hermione's eyes as one of her eyes turned entirely black like Severus', eve as one of his turned a vivid electric green.

" _ **Get out of my mind, you bloody bitch!"**_ Severus' mind-voice screamed. His hands pulled off Hermione's neck and their fingers entwined as a burst of raw power filled them. They tilted their heads back and screamed.

Tiamat's jaws widened in eager excitement and she dove into them, disappearing as a poof of purple chaos magic as she devoured the taint in Severus' mind and followed it up the path. By the time Mia realised what was happening and frantically tried to pull away, Tiamat bayed, and the Gwyllgi howled together in response, rising like a river of pain as it worked its way towards Mia's physical location.

" _ **No! NO! NOOOO!"**_ Mia's mind voice shrieked in terror, no longer trying to sound sweet and youthful. No, now it sounded like the reedy screech of a much older woman.

"Please make sure to tell the Dark Lord that I must regretfully decline his invitation," Severus hissed.

A final blast of energy flew out in a ring from them and they collapsed together as the magic took the last of their will and transformed into one final attack.

Mia's scream was followed by another, and another, and another as Tiamat and the Gwyllgi followed the taint up the lines and tore each and every one of the tainted ones to mental shreds, leaving their bodies pristine and wholly alive but unmoving and completely unresponsive.

But Hermione and Severus remained in a forced, drained sleep as their final effort together set in motion what they could not see through alone, even as far away, Augustus Rookwood watched an Elder "God" rise up from the depths of the brain tank, its face full of writing tentacles.

"Olleh, DoowkooR Sutsugua," the creature greeted him as it sank down upon him and ate his brain.

The Gwyllgi looked at the creature skeptically, heads cocked.

The great Elder God patted each one on the head like a hound and picked its mouth with a femur. "Doog sgod."

Kingsley and Manfred skidded to a halt, sliding in the blood and gore, coming to a stop at the feet of—

"Why the hell is sodding  _ **Cthulhu**_ doing loose in the brain room?" Kingsley bellowed as if he expected answers.

" _Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!_ " Manfred said.

Cthulhu scratched his bottom with one of his tentacle-like "hands" and sighed. "I could really use a good cup of tea." He belched and a goblet, a leather-bound journal, and an ornate silver ring came out, all covered in dark purple slime.

* * *

Hermione and Severus woke groggily to the pale light of pre-dawn coming from one of the outer courtyards. They blinked bearily together to see the tall form of Kingsley Shacklebolt standing over their bed with his arms crossed sternly across his well-muscled chest.

"Master?" they said together.

Kingsley jutted his thumb and pursed his lips towards the even taller figure behind him of— of darkness, slime, and tentacles to spare. It seemed to be cradling an oversized mug of tea in one tentacled "hand."

"Care to explain this one, you two?"

"Doog gninrom," Cthulhu greeted them, sipping from his steaming cuppa.

Hermione and Severus traded nervous looks, took the duvet and covered themselves up again from head-to-toe.

"That's what I thought," Kingsley muttered, eyeing the lump on the bed with a sigh. "I'm leaving him here for  _ **you**_ to deal with," he said, storming off to take a much-needed shower.

* * *

_**End of Chapter 2** _

* * *

**A/N:**  Oops, no one expects Cthulhu! Hope you liked Chapter 2. Heh. heh. heh.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Yawn...

 **Beta Love:**  The Dragon and the Rose, the Abused-and-Tired-Dutchgirl01, and the Dominator-of-Assassin's-Creed-Commander Shepard

Shoutout to  **Bookwormkat** : Thank you so much for the incredible gift. I'm almost afraid to write in it, but when I do, I'll be thinking of you *teardrop*

* * *

**Spiders:** _No money being made disclaimer here!_

**Learning to Fly**

Chapter 3

_Life would be tragic if it weren't funny._

Stephen Hawking

"Sucof. Hcuot eht peed krad dna llac sti Eman."

Hermione closed her eyes, extending her awareness of her connection the Tiamat's chaos and sending it forward.

"Live si a eil. Ti si a drow elpoep esu ot enifed stca yeht tonnac mohtaf. Ti si na tca os raf devomer morf eht lacipyt, eht etanoissapmoc, eht gnirac taht ti seifirroh. Ti syortsed yb gnitsixe. Ti setaerc morf eht dne."

Hermione reached forward, and instead of shying away from the Darkness, she let it swirl around her, brushing up against her like a cat. Evil, at least according to Cthulhu, was a lie. Evil was, quite simply, a selfish extreme— a deed done with no consideration for the effect on the one that did it, or, in a more egocentric way, doing the deed with full awareness of what harm it would do to everyone else.

Society frowned on evil about as much as scratching one's privates in public or, gods forbid, handling a salmon in suspicious circumstances. Okay, maybe not the latter as much as that was written in as an actual law, but Hermione was wondering what made handling a salmon suspiciously looked like, exactly. Maybe the salmon though you were pretty evil at that point. Did you wear dark clothes and a mask over your entire head carrying around a poor dead fish?

Hermione felt the Dark poking around, curious about her as much as she was about it.

Perhaps, she thought to herself, what Cthulhu was teaching her was more true than she had originally thought. Perhaps Dark magic was no different than Chaos magic or "normal" magic. It was, simply,  _magic—_ like water from different rivers that eventually returned to the sea, one way or another.

That was  _it!_

Hermione's realisation came with a visceral epiphany as that "Dark" magic flowed into her, combining, dancing, and cavorting as her other magic did and the tickle of that power added to her own. She realised, in that moment, that it hadn't been the magic that had shunned her before— it had been  _HER_ that had blocked it from becoming a true part of her.

Dark magic wasn't evil. It was simply magic.

What people did with it, however— no!

No that wasn't it at all.

People could be evil. Deeds could be evil. Actions and thoughts could be evil— but magic was simply a tool that responded to one's will and intent. Both of which were entirely up to that individual. That person could be very, very evil. There were far more ways to kill a person other than using the so-called Unspeakables. The mind magic that Mia had used on Severus— it was just magic, Dark in deed and use but not inherently evil. No, what Mia had done was to hide her magic— her true magical will and intent— from everyone, even the masters.

And she could only do that because magic itself was not EVIL. Short of using Veritaserum or Legilimency, one's true intentions could not be detected. It was still just magic. The more she used it, however, the more she twisted her will specifically around Severus, and the more evil it had become. Hermione hadn't sensed anything amiss because she hadn't done a deep scan, and she hadn't done a deep scan because she respected Severus too much to just go galavanting into his little grey cells without permission.

And what reason could she have given, save for some selfish need in herself to feel his touch again? There was no sin in love. He had the right to love anyone he so chose, and that was the most insidious part of it all. The evil within the woman's deeds had seemed so terribly… normal.

Who  _wouldn't_ have loved Severus and his talent and his power— his wit, his intelligence, his loyalty? So she hadn't asked because a part of her only blamed herself for not having had clearer intentions in the first place.

She hadn't, she confessed to herself.

Severus was her safe place— something trusted, familiar and accepted. Something she couldn't imagine not being there—She had taken it for granted due to lack of experience and how the masters had always said their bond was strong.

So Mia's magic was not evil, Veela blood or no. Mia, however,  _was_ an evil woman. Severus's actions were what normal people did in a relationship: grow affection that becomes love or parts ways. His actions hadn't been meant to hurt her. The hadn't been evil anymore than this magic was evil.

Had she used her magic, doing a deep scan on Severus without cause or manipulating him into accepting without serious cause to back it up, she would have been as guilty as the people her masters had sent to Azkaban for what amounted to mind rape.

There had been no proof, only a feeling of disquiet, and that could have been  _ANYTHING_. As a mind-healer, she knew thousands of ways to tear apart a mind and seamlessly put it back together, but the deepest oath was do no harm to the patient. What kind of person would that have made her if she couldn't respect Severus' choice and tore apart his mind looking for the evidence she only suspected?

Even the masters may have suspected something amiss, but without proof, they had no reason to forcing Severus to undergo a deep scan. For all intents and purposes, he was a boy in love, planning his future with the one he loved.

And love, perhaps, was the greatest evil of all— as selfless as it was selfish, the dual-edged blade of ecstasy and pain, understanding and mystification, noble and disparaging acts. It could drive people to do the most amazing things, but it could also drive one to insanity.

"Doog, uoy od dnatsrednu. Uoy era won retaerg naht erofeb," Cthulhu said, his voice a whisper of a whisper that she felt in her mind more than she heard. It was odd to understand him, almost like his words took a while to sink in and her brain to go "Oh! I know what that means!"

He was pleased with her epiphany, even as long as it had taken for it to sink in and reach terminal velocity.

Her stomach growled insistently, letting her know in no uncertain terms just how horribly negligent she was of her body's needs.

"Uoy'ev dewollaw ni thguoht gnol hguone. Og xaler. Ruo snossel era revo yadot." Cthulhu gave her a short nod.

Hermione bowed to her third and probably most unique master, who had been summoned from the deepest depths of the sleeping, churning earth. Always before, she and Severus had called beasts to their aide, but Cthulhu was neither beast nor human. He had arrived, woken by their Call, and had decided that it served his will to assist them.

He had informed Kingsley and Manfred shortly after his arrival that Hermione and Severus had, unlike so many other Summoners, actually said "please". Their combined will and pain, anger, and despair had mixed together into the perfect cocktail that he could devour— savour as much as one might a particularly satisfying nightcap.

Somehow, just the right mix had impressed him instead of angering him— or perhaps he found the magic they had sent Tiamat and the Gwyllgi chasing even more offensive. Whatever the reason, he was there to stay, setting up shop in the DoM and clearly enjoying the many, very unnerved looks that came his way.

And he gave the most  _wicked_ brain massages…

She wasn't even sure how that worked, but it felt like heaven.

Who knew?

* * *

Severus fidgeted as Mr and Mrs Evans sat with Hermione in the courtyard, having been escorted in by Aurelia Hastings. Each time they had visited before, it had been under supervision by someone from the DoM, but on this particular day he couldn't help but feel as if he should be there to support her.

 _Not like you bothered all of last year. Too busy shagging the shite out of fucking Mia_ , his mind screamed at him.  _Why_ should  _she invite you, when every other time she asked, you were "too busy" or "had to go practice, sorry."_

Severus trembled, his anger causing his fists to clench.

 _You_ know  _she kissed you just to prevent you from blowing up the DoM. It wasn't because you actually deserved to be kissed. You're lucky she didn't just fucking vapourize your cock and leave you with only your bollocks just so she could keep kicking you between the legs._

He could see the younger version of himself giving him the evil eye— the sort of glare he'd give his drunken reprobate of a father.  _You think she's going to want to have you at her side next to her sodding parents now?_

"Severus, stop beating up on yourself and come meet my parents again." Hermione's voice was pitched just so he could hear.

Severus froze, almost falling off the branch he was sitting on in his state of perpetual sulk.

He flew down and landed beside her, shocked as her wing slid under his arm and curved around his back.

"You remember Severus, right mum? Dad?" Hermione asked as she pulled Severus down to the seat next to her.

Mr Evans gave Severus a disapproving scowl. "Didn't you tell us that he was dating someone else?"

" _Was_ , not that it matters. He's my best friend."

"A friend you're sleeping with again?"

Hermione scowled. "You  _know_ that it's not like you are making it out to be."

"I do not approve of you sleeping around with—"

"She does  _NOT_ sleep around," Severus hissed furiously, his rage building on her behalf. "And you know full well that sleeping in the same place does not always mean—"

"I made the mistake of not putting my foot down with Lily, and I will not have my youngest daughter pregnant before she's seventeen and forced into some wedding with a boy we barely know! We haven't even met his parents!"

Mr Evans paled as he seemed to abruptly realise that was not quite what he had been planning to say.

Hermione's eyes went very wide in a face that was white as a sheet, and purple chaos magic started to crackle through her hair and wings. "Lily is pregnant and married?"

"I warned you not to take your frustrations out on  _her_ , Gerald!" Mrs Evans hissed, her eyes flashing in anger.

Hermione's thoughts pounded through Severus' mind before she pulled in the reins. Her sister was pregnant. Her sister was a witch. Her sister or her lover apparently hadn't bothered with any form of contraception.

Who the hell  _DOES_ that?! Hermione's mind screamed.

Some pureblood families, he replied calmly. But they sort of encourage all manner of dodgy things, up to and including incest.

Hermione's wings twitched along with her eyebrows. My sister got herself impregnated by a pureblood wizard?

Severus flinched. Well, they  _could_ just have been…

Idiots! Hermione's mind hissed.

Severus stared at the nearby Asian pear tree, finding it mighty interesting all of a sudden.

Hermione's curls were doing their best interpretation of Medusa enraged, and she glared at her father. "Dad, I'm not an imbecile. I know what sex is. I know how babies happen, and I know how to take a potion, perform a contraception spell, or for heaven's even sake use a bloody rubber if I was, in fact, in such a situation, which I have  _NOT_. I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't immediately compare me to one of my so-called sisters who did their best to drive me to suicide at the age of bloody nine!"

Severus' eyes widened. Hermione was  _scary_. Gone was the usual fear and trembling at the very sight of her parents. Somehow, out of nowhere, she had become fierce as a gryphon.

It seemed to dawn on the Evanses that their daughter was not nine anymore in the flash of a few embarrassing seconds. There were also several other families meeting their children in the park too, and quite a few of them hadn't  _NOT_ noticed the rather irate young witch's tirade.

"Please sit down, Hermione," her father said, his face very red with embarrassment.

Hermione, who hadn't even realised that she had stood up and almost taken out Severus' eyes with her wings, sat back down, staring at the pear tree with intense scrutiny.

"Look, Hermione, I really  _tried_ to be more open and understanding with Lily. I mean, she was magical and Petunia and her were always at each other's throats. We figured she just needed space. Like you—"

"You think I just needed  _SPACE_?" Hermione cut him off, her voice hitching. "Did you not even read the notes?"

"What… notes?" her father asked, obviously confused.

Hermione's head snapped up and she glowered darkly at her mother. Her mother paled and gripped her purse with white knuckles. "You never even showed him, did you? All these years. You just told him I needed some time to adjust, eh?"

"Hermione, it wasn't that important—"

"It wasn't  _ **IMPORTANT?!"**_  Hermione seethed, her hands seeming to transform into talons before their very eyes— yet if it was an illusion or just some trick of her magic, Severus wasn't sure. Regardless, her nails clawed at the table, leaving long white swaths. "Where did you hide them, mum? Did you stuff them in the little book on the top shelf that you think no one ever reads?"

Her mother's gasp was all she needed to hear. Hermione's lip curled. Hermione stood. "We're done here. Rest assured, I will  _not_ be shagging every boy I meet, and even if I did, I would not be so addle-minded from lust to forget about the importance of contraception. And until you read those notes my dear sisters so lovingly wrote to me, father, we have nothing more to say to each other."

"Hermione—" Her mother reached out to her.

Hermione tolerated the touch for a brief moment before turning her head to face her mother. "I am so very angry with you right now, mum. I love you both, but I will not sit here and play happy families with you when we both know that my sisters couldn't care less if I lived or died. In fact, those notes clearly demonstrate that they would much prefer the latter."

"They were just children!" her mother protested.

Hermione, having somewhat controlled her roiling emotions by shoving them behind her healer's Occlumency, trembled slightly, and Severus was up and wrapping her in his wing embrace, pinning her to him with instinctive sheltering. Hermione sank into him soundlessly.

Mr Evans stood. "Look, we're going to go home, and I'm going to read those notes, and then— I have a feeling I'll want to talk to you again sometime soon."

Hermione, jaw tightened, nodded once. "Okay, dad."

Her father sighed. "It's not that I think you reckless, it just— I was a boy, too, once upon a time."

The healing apprentice eyed him critically. "You still are, technically, a boy unless there is something you haven't told me."

He startled and then seemed to realise his daughter had just successfully yanked his chain.

"Severus may be a boy to you, dad, but he's always been a gentleman to me when it matters the most," Hermione said.

"So he hasn't been all the time?" her father growled.

"Father," she said, using his full title instead of the endearment. "Have you ever been able to claim having a perfect record with mum, never fighting, never disagreeing, never not sharing your interests?"

Her dad seemed to be staring intently at that pear tree again. It was sure getting a lot of scrutiny. "No, you're right. It's just—"

"You're still a dad," Hermione said.

"Yeah."

Hermione sighed. "Go home. Read the notes. Read my letters, and then I'll see you again."

"Letters?"

Hermione turned slowly, eyes narrowing.

Mrs Evans resumed her death grip on her purse, her eyes fixed on her lap.

Hermione closed her eyes. "Maybe they'll be hidden in that book too."

Mr Evans set his jaw and nodded. "Take care of yourself, Hermione."

"I will, dad," Hermione said.

They hugged awkwardly, but Hermione was no longer wound quite so tightly.

As her parents walked out with Madam Hastings, Hermione thunked her head against Severus' chest and closed her eyes. "Seven years now, almost eight, and she kept the truth from dad all this time."

"Do you think your sisters ever think about you?" Severus asked, rubbing her back soothingly with his wings.

"Petunia probably does whenever she doesn't have someone else to blame for things. Lily— I'm not really sure. After finding out she was magical? Maybe it turned her around. Not that she got any smarter, Merlin.  _Pregnant_? She's only seventeen!"

"Old enough to be married," Severus said with a slight frown. "She's legally an adult in the Wizarding world."

"Barely," Hermione muttered.

"Well, it could be argued there are some people who never act their age, adult or otherwise," Severus pointed out.

"Come on," Hermione said, stretching out her wings. "Tonight's the night we can finally spit out these stupid Mandrake leaves from our mouths."

"Just when I thought I was getting fond of the flavour," Severus said, puckering.

Hermione raised her brow at him. "What do you think you'll be?"

"You're asking the guy who gets himself countless Rune spiders when you get a ruddy Chaos Beast?" Severus sighed and shook his head. "I'm going to end up a sodding wolpertinger."

"Awwww," Hermione cooed.

Severus glowered.

"But they're so  _adorable!_ "

"I. Hate. You."

Hermione hmphed. "No warm wing hugs for haters," she said, gliding off in a swirl of wings and robes.

Severus twitched and then hurried after her.

* * *

Kingsley and Manfred were waiting for them when they returned. Their faces tired from important Ministry business that had kept them tied them up for most of the day, as it had for the past week or more since Mia's betrayal and the subsequent devouring of Augustus Rookwood's brain right out of his skull shortly before they found his body with the accursed Dark Mark branded on his left forearm.

There had been some talk of that taking it way too far before both of their masters had made it quite clear that Rookwood had been a highly trusted member of the DoM up until the point when he was exposed as a Death Eater. Everyone was being interrogated, and Amelia was taking absolutely no chances now that Rookwood had been exposed. She had trusted the wizard implicitly, and she did  _not_ enjoy being made the fool.

"Please, join us," Manfred said. "We will witness the fruits of your hard work these last few years on your Animagus studies, but first there is a bit of overshadowing news that you should hear from us before the papers get ahold of it and use rumours and innuendo to twist it into something infinitely more terrible than it already is."

The pair sat with their masters, bowing slightly in respect before doing so.

"The Gwyllgi were remarkably efficient," Kingsley said, "in tracing every last bit of the same Dark magic that was connected to the Mark on Mia Conners— if that is even her true name. Tiamat, on the other hand, devoured all the magic as she went following behind them, leaving residual chaos magic in her wake that— may have caused some really bizarre changes in all the afflicted."

Severus sniffed. "Please define these 'really bizarre changes' Master?"

"Well, Tasmanian Exploding Budgie Pox., for starters."

"They broke out in budgie-shaped exploding boils?!" Hermione exclaimed.

"One did."

"Most were catatonic, but some swapped their heads and their rear ends with donkeys' heads and arses. Some became part-trees— on the  _lower_ half of their body. One witch, Bellatrix Lestrange was her name… she turned into this strange fang-toothed squirrel-creature that has a serious obsession with acorns."

Severus' lip twitched. "That's a thing?"

"Oh, it most definitely was and  _is_ a— thing." Kingsley sighed, taking a deeper breath and letting it out slowly.

Morgan looked up from his mango he had deskinned with unnerving precision. "From what we can tell, every person linked by the Mark— nay— every person linked via Voldemort's magic has been—" he licked his teeth a moment and then sighed. "They have been taken out of the running in a  _very_ chaotic manner."

"And those objects that our new friend coughed up after having a good nosh on Rookwood's brain matter—" Kingsley said. "Well, they are-or rather  _were_ — Horcruxes."

"Horwhatxes?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Horcruxes," Morgan said. "The most evil type of magic there is, Hermione. Their sole purpose is to hold and preserve a piece of the actual soul that a person would never die— but for each one you made, your remaining soul was fractured further, the part-soul remaining in your body even smaller than before. The price of one has always been much like the use of unicorn's blood that was unwillingly taken. You cannot escape punishment for an act so cruel, so evil without paying for it in some way."

Severus seemed rattled by the entire idea as his mind put together why making such a thing was so disturbing. "He had to murder someone each time."

Kingsley nodded. "And then some. Each murder fractures the soul. It is one thing to kill in one's own defence. As an act of desperation. Even killing a person accidentally. But to murder— that requires evil. Selfish desires and lack of care for consequences."

Hermione blinked. That was what Master Cthulhu had been trying to teach others for so long. How odd that this would come so soon after that epiphany.

Hermione leaned automatically into Severus, seeing his comfort, his wings. She heard him gasp in shock as she melted into him— so much like they had always been. In that moment there was no Mia before or after; it was just him. Just Her. Just that warmth of wings.

"Now, would you two kindly pass through your final Animagus meditation so we can fill out this loathsome scroll and sent it to the registry?" Kingsley said, waving it.

Hermione sort of slithered out of Severus' wings and they both stared at each other a moment. Each took out the mandrake leaf they had been harbouring for what seemed like a year, and closed their eyes and summoned their magic.

There was great tug of energy as each of them grounded themselves as one, their magic having blended as innately as it was wont to do. Even though they had been more distant in the past year, their magic refused to  _NOT_ work together, and even in their practices and meditations, they had been connected.

Suddenly another epiphany settled in, much like a feline jumping up on the table and settling in the middle of the morning newspaper. There was the final reason they had never truly suspected anything truly amiss in the last year. You could not miss what you never lost, and their magic— their  _shared_ magic— had never left them. Had Mia's plan to break them apart by marrying Severus and thus locking her into his magic— she could have killed Hermione outright, yet her precious pawn would not die from the act.

No, instead he would have been broken, but eminently controllable, clinging to Mia as his only magical familiarity. It was every bit as brilliant as it was  _sick_.

It was…

 _ **Evil**_.

Dark purple chaos flared off of them both, rising up from their bodies as the black and lava orange energy of the Gwyllgi merged with it. Then the almost blinding blue plasma of magic rose with the dark, dark tentacles of Dark Magic. They entwined, caressing each other like long lost lovers— eager to feel each other's touch.

They could feel it—

_Waiting._

_Eager._

_Needful._

The magic's desire to be united within them was growing ever stronger— not just allowed to cavort and play together but to be truly  _one_ within them.

They pulled on that magic, inviting them in to play inside themselves, and so it did, merging with them with gleeful abandon and coaxing out the surge of magic that they had spent over a year's worth of meditations working to solidify it when the time came.

The time was now.

They took in a simultaneous breath and—

_**WHOOOOOOM!** _

Their magic burst out from their body in a flood, carrying their bodies along with the first and most important change.

They had trained so they wouldn't get caught in-between.

They had studied so the wouldn't get trapped in the mind of the beast they became.

They stood up, emerging from what seemed like a magical cocoon that unfurled like another span of wings and magical tendrils. The magic seemed to drip and Hermione and Severus stepped out of their chrysalis, their toe claws clicking on the ground as their wings unfolded.

Gargantuan leather-and-scale wings like that of a dragon but connected fully to their bodies like that of a bat. Their half-and-half muzzle wrinkled in a half-snarl. Great ears flicked, ribbed and so delicately furred. He— the darkest of blacks. She— the colour of whisky with such fierce, emerald eyes— the vivid green that seemed stamped on the Evans family genetic code from mother to daughters.

Only—

She had one green eye and one black, and he had exactly the same. Emerald fire blazed in one while the total darkness of the Abyss flickered in the other.

Their backs were covered in a strange coat of feathers, like a certain Thunderbird's. Electric, no,  _magic_ crackling between the shafts.

Master Morgan belted out uproarious laughter as Kingsley looked utterly indignant.

"I told you not to corrupt them into dragonbats,  _ **MANFRED!**_ " Kingsley roared.

"Thundering dragon-bats, you completely inobservant git," Morgan cackled. "They picked up traits from  _ **BOTH**_ of us!"

Kings' jaw dropped as he realised what his friend and fellow master said was true. "Whaaaaa?"

" _Whoa! Cool!"_ a few spiders cheered, bouncing up and down on Severus' head between his satellite ears.

Severus' one ear smacked one spider off like a polo ball.

" _Eeee!"_  the spider said, landing on Hermione. " _I'm staying with her, you git!"_

The purple-coloured spider dove into Hermione's lush mane of curls.

The exposed spider on Severus' head looked conflicted at either being exposed, being alone, or wanting to follow his friend to Hermione. He seemed to reluctantly hunker down in Severus' hair instead. Meanwhile, a spider with a disturbing set of Dark tentacles instead of legs floated out from under Severus' mane and latched onto Hermione's mane and disappeared with somewhat disturbing  _SSCCHHLRUP!_

Kingsley just stared.

Manfred snatched up the scroll and quilled furiously, the act made even more comical by the fact he was gripping the quill with his wing fingers and not human hands. "There we go, come on over here. That's it. Expose your neck there for me."

He used the end of the scroll and pressed it to their necks just behind the ear. It fizzed as a glowing magical mark appeared on their skin and then faded. "There, you're all registered." The scroll sprouted a fine pair of butterfly wings and flew off to the registry office.

Kingsley sighed deeply. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"Kingsley is worried that people will realise how deep our bond is, both between you both and us as your masters," Manfred said with a chuckle. To defy normality and take after us instead of a more expected animal is a sign of a great and deep bond. The kind of trust m any dream of but rarely obtain. Or, perhaps he's just worried that people will be knocking on the door hoping to join our group that maybe some of the fantastic wonder may rain upon them as well."

Kingsley glowered at the dragon-bat, well the  _original_  one.

Hermione giggled, a sound made all the more interesting coming from her new vocal cords. She covered her muzzle with her wings and gave wide eyes. "I can talk!"

"Obviously," Severus said, giving her the eye.

Hermione pounced him, squeaking indignation, and the pair went tumbling. Kingsley lifted the nearby vase while Morgan moved the tea table, completely used to such things from their apprentices.

Kingsley sighed as he heard the telltale SPLOOSH of dragonbats hitting the hotsprings bath.

"You've created a monster, Manfred," he said with a sniff.

"We've created excellence," Morgan replied, a large feral grin on his muzzle.

"Hrph," Kings said. "You realise when I go to this Order of the Phoenix meeting, old Dumbledore is going to be flipping his wig, right?"

"I look forward to the Pensieve memories, my friend." The dragon-bat yawned and pressed a seal into the last of the documents he was scribbling over. He flopped onto the ground and wing-walked lazily towards the hotsprings.

"Don't turn into a prune," Kings said.

"Scales do not wrinkle," Morgan said as he disappeared into the literal bath-room.

Kings finished up his work and cleaned off the table, sending the scrolls off in a flying filing folder to Amelia. As he trudged by the bath, he saw three dragon-bat heads poking out of the bubbling hot water as the rest of their bodies steamed from the heated water.

"You three are insufferable," Kings said.

The pack of Gwyllgi plowed into Kings, using their heads to force him into the bath with a sploosh. He came up for air, spewing a fountain of water. He glowered at the hellhounds. "You're insufferable too."

The Gwyllgi wagged their tails in approval.

* * *

N.E.W.T. season came and went with a rush of copious sweating, worry, and subsequent ribbing from all the masters that if anyone was over prepared for sitting their N.E.W.T.s it was the apprentices of Masters Shacklebolt and Morgan.

"He's gone round the bend is what he has," Master Garibaldi signed as he joined them in the park.

"I don't think anyone thinks Albus Dumbledore is as bad as he's been since Tom's little recruitment within the DoM went pear-shaped," Kingsley signed back, "but he really is— bad."

"How?" Garibaldi asked.

Kings sipped his tea as he signed back, "when Mia forced our hand— Hermione and Severus to protect themselves, he kind of lost his roadmap. He had some sort of grand plan, and now— now he doesn't."

Sebastian Garibaldi stared into his tea. "So, how are those Order meetings?"

Kings shook his head. "You should see them, Sebastian," he replied. "Huddled in that old house of Sirius'. I swear that place is just creepy. I feel as if the anger and resentment is so strong there. Even the house-elf is a pain in the bollocks. I think— but I can't prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That Sirius killed his parents."

"What?! I would rather believe they were taken out by the same magic that neutralised the Dark Lord."

Kingsley sighed. "I know. It'd be so logical. Easy to believe, but—"

"You don't think so."

"No."

"Ok, then. Why?" Sebastian signed.

"That's where Dumbledore comes in, old friend. I think that the old man was bending ears and needed a safe place for the Order to meet. And low and behold, we got one."

"You couldn't have just made a safe house?" Sebastian asked.

"You should see them, Sebastian, they—" Kingsley sighed. "They're terrified the Dark Lord is coming back. Or they are terrified the Dark Lord isn't truly dead. Either way they are scared. They have James and Lily Potter on the run because some lunatic from Seer's blood—Trelawney—spewed some prophecy over her interview. Dumbledore has her teaching at Hogwarts just so he can protect her. They found that Peter Pettigrew boy— man— I'm not sure what to call him anymore stuck in a giant cheese wheel trying to stuff himself until he explodes. He can't stop eating. He tries to eat his own clothes if he runs out of things to eat. It's a mess, mate. A complete mess."

"You said he had the Mark, yes?"

"Yeah, and you should have seen everyone come unglued when they realised one of their own wasn't batting for their team," Kings said. "If it hadn't been for Mia— we'd be looking at a continued war."

"When did this Trelawney make that prophecy? Before or after Mia's little… thing?"

Kingsley looked thoughtful. "After."

Sebastian frowned. "If it is a true prophecy, perhaps they are looking at it in the wrong way. There is always a Dark Lord something or another. There is always someone trying to subjugate the masses to their own selfish wants. Maybe it has nothing to do with Tom Riddle. Tell me, the Potters. Did they ever figure out what you suspect? That Sirius killed his parents for Dumbledore? Or that he even killed them at all?"

Kingsley frowned. "I'm not sure."

"What if he asked them to join him in the insanity. What if they denied him… defied him, three times?"

"Sirius Black as the incumbent Dark Lord?" Kingsley blurted out loud.

Sebastian gestured at him rudely. "Why do we even learn sign if you're just going to do that?"

Kingsley flushed. "Sorry," he gestured.

Sebastian sighed. "Look, Kings. You don't need me telling you what murder does to a soul. If Sirius Black did murder his family either for Dumbledore or himself, he's a broken soul, unstable—"

"And dangerous," Kingsley said. "We need to find the Potters and get them to real safety. If Sirius is or was their friend, he'll know how they work and how to find them."

"How do you propose to find them?"

"Only one thing lets you track Secret-kept locations, old friend."

Garibaldi frowned grimly, steepling his hands together. "Blood."

* * *

Hermione dangled upside down from the tree branch, lips curled back from her stiletto teeth. Severus nudged her, and she nuzzled him, peering down at the small cottage in Godric's Hollow. The medallion around her neck— gold with a crystal "filled" with crimson blood— glowed.

It was, at least in their minds, amusing how two extra large servings of "thundering" dragon-bat could dangle around and have no one scream bloody murder and call the authorities. Disillusionment aside, they were attracting a few curious interlopers in the form of nightjars and normal bats.

Severus groomed her ears with his teeth, dutifully making the time more pleasurable as they hung around and waited patiently. The cottage was dark, so far, and Hermione figured they were likely out in the town getting supplies. Godric Hollow was hardly a bustling hub of activity to cloak the random passerby; instead it seemed the very opposite, which might make the place seem less likely a target.

Hermione snuggled into him, enjoying his warmth, the spread of his larger pseudo-dragon wings offering a cocoon of pleasurable comfort she savoured more than a little.

"If I didn't know this place was really it, I'd start doubting about now," Hermione said, happy that their voices couldn't be heard by most things. Master Garibaldi called it infrasound— sounds far too low for humans to pick up and even most animals."

Unless you happened to be an elephant or a rhinoceros… or a squid. Who knew?

Severus yawned in her ear, worrying on it lazily. He was tired, and so was she, and hanging around waiting for almost two days seemed just a  _bit_ extreme. They took turns sleeping so at least one of them would be alert at all times. Still, it was tiring, and boring, and they had already recited the entire  _Arbatel De Magia Veterum_  in the hope that a little positive thinking would somehow cause their quarry to materialise.

No such luck, however.

Hermione worked on Severus' ears to occupy her time, amusing herself as Severus swayed slowly in the evening breeze. It had taken some time to get used to seeing things upside down, and the flight was little different from their usual wings.

A scruffy-looking black dog was sniffing around the empty cottage, and Hermione's fur stood on end, magical electric zapping down her feathered back.

'What?" Severus asked.

"That dog," she said, watching it closely to see if even a flick of ear could hear them.

"Be right back, stay here."

Hermione dropped from the branch and opened her wings, flapping silently in the evening sky. She let out a loud  _ **SCREEEEEEEEE!**_  but pitched it so only that they could hear it.

The dog peed on a rose bush, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched quite intently.

She dropped a stone on the roof, and the dog immediately perked up and then sat down, chewing on his itchy nethers.

Hermione landed neatly beside Severus, flipping up to cling to the branch again.

"What as that about?"

"Making sure he couldn't actually hear us."

"Ah," he replied. "Why the concern?"

"There's something odd about that dog."

Severus took in a deep breath, sending out a echolocation ping at the same time. "No bowl out or anything. So I don't think it's a family pet." His eyes glistened as he focused more, his body stretching as he concentrated.

"Now that… isn't normal," Severus said as the dog placed its paws on the window sill and peered into the cottage. It was shuttered tightly, but the action in itself was not typical of  _any_ species of canine.

"I don't like it," Hermione said, frowning.

"No, I'm with you." Severus frowned as well, his lips curling around his fangs. "But so far it hasn't done anything other than behave suspiciously, and we need real proof."

Hermione took in a deep breath. "Yeah."

Footsteps were coming, and the dog hastily scrambled away.

"Hey boy, want a sandwich?" an older man said, tossing the dog something leftover from the pub.

The mongrel devoured the offering quickly, accepting pets.

Hermione kept a silent eye on the dog even as Severus nudged her, indicating that more were coming— a couple carrying a child.

"That's my sister," Hermione said, her eyes flashing as the amulet around her neck glowed brighter. "Definitely."

"Do you think they will see reason?" Severus asked.

They had discussed it many times, but each time they had bumped heads together and come to the conclusion that they while they had once known each other fairly well, Hermione didn't really know her sister anymore and what she  _did_ remember of her was tainted by a little thing called attempted sororicide.

They watched.

They waited.

The old man continued on his walk, nodding and waving in a friendly manner to Lily and James as they walked up to their cottage. But when they arrived at the cottage, they froze, even as the shimmering wards beckoned them home—

Just beyond the growling black mongrel.

"Sirius," James said, putting himself between Lily and baby Harry.

The dog stood up and grew into a man with a wickedly crooked grin. "James, we really missed you at the last Order meeting."

"I've had a lot of things on my mind lately, Pads," James said.

"Too busy to even send word of where you were?" Sirius said, his voice and lips turned to a pout, but it was an empty, hollow thing.

"You know why we have to hide," James pointed out. "And even  _you_ told me you couldn't be trusted."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before Wormtail got himself in a bit of a cheese wheel and can't stop eating."

_**What?"** _

"Something odd. One minute he was there. Our best mate," Sirius said. "And the next he was stuffing his face to the point of explosion—"

His lips turned up in a rather creepy smile. "Seems to have gotten himself a new tattoo as well."

Lily gasped, clutching Harry to herself so tightly that the baby began to cry. She tried to calm him, but her voice was high and frightened, so Harry was having none of it. The more she tried to soothe him, the louder he got, his face turning puckered and red, almost purple as he wailed in distress, his tiny fists clenched in angry displeasure.

"Harry, Harry sweetie, shhh shhh!" she pleaded with the crying infant.

Harry, however, had a snitch up his nappy, and he was way too angry to care.

"Harry," Sirius said, taking steps forward.

James pushed Lily further behind him with his back, shoving her into the range of the house wards, and the moment she was in range, she disappeared inside with Harry, leaving James alone with Sirius.

Sirius frowned. "Now, is that anyway to treat a friend."

"Sirius, Lily's all up in knots. She's seeing Death Eaters everywhere. She can't even see friends anymore."

"But we've been friends for such a long time, Prongs."

"I know, Pads. I know."

"Why are you so damned protective of her?"

"You need to ask? There's a  _war_ brewing out there, Pads. We didn't intend to get pregnant quite so soon." James rubbed his head. "The last year at school was really bad, mate, and we went from school to on the run."

"Why? No one threatened you specifically—"

Sirius narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Look, pads, I know you hated your piece of work parents, but—"

"But—?"

"But when they disappeared and we started meeting in that house, Lily just couldn't take it anymore."

"What does that have to do with my hatred of my parents?"

"Lily heard the portraits whispering. They said that  _you_ killed them, Pads."

Sirius cracked his neck as he moved it from side to side. "So what if I did? Dumbledore needed a new place to meet, didn't he?"

"That doesn't mean you go and murder them!" James hissed.

"You'd rather they murdered me, then?"

"What?  _ **NO!"**_  James said, appalled. "I'd rather murder be entirely off the bloody table!"

"Come on, Prongs, let's go in and talk, yeah? Just like old times."

"I can't, mate. Lily doesn't want  _any_ one inside until we know for sure the war is over."

"If you came to the meetings, Prongsy, you'd already know it is."

" _ **What?"**_

"Seems all the suspected Death Eaters— some more than suspected— all took a right turn down the crapper," Sirius said. "All the Marked ones have been seriously fucked up. Like Wormtail."

James seemed to remember Wormtail as his brain came out of the haze. "No, that can't be. He was trustworthy. He was our— secret keeper." James' eyes widened as he realised something. "How did  _ **you**_ know where to find us?"

"Imperio," Sirius whispered into his ear, his wand ever so delicately pressed into his best mate's groin. "Now, be a good little deer and take down all the wards."

James raised his wand mechanically and all the wards started to come down. Lily was screeching hysterically from inside.

" _James?!_ What are you doing?!  _ **JAMES! NO! JAMES! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"**_

"Open the door," Sirius said.

Obediently, James opened the door.

"Now, step aside," Sirius said.

Lily stood next to the crib, pointing her wand at Sirius. "You get out.  _ **GET OUT OF HERE!"**_

"Now, is that any way to treat an old friend?" Sirius cooed. "Especially one that helped you get together with old Prongsy? Especially the one that got you that baby to keep your perfect little life together?"

"I know what you did to your parents," Lily said, trembling.

"Dear old mummy tell you all about it, hrm?" Sirius sneered. "She never knew when to shut the hell up. I was hoping that you'd both realise all I'd done for you, but it seems that neither of you are particularly grateful for the gift I gave you."

Harry was wailing, and his accidental magic was making the Quidditch mobile quake wildly over the crib.

"But  _ **he**_ will," Sirius smirked. "He and  _ **I**_  are going to get along just famously."

" _ **You stay the hell away from my baby,"**_ Lily screamed as she cast a spell that went zooming to Sirius' face.

" _Protego,"_  he said, dodging. " _Expelliarmus!"_

Sirius grasped Lily's wand and smiled. "Too much worry about the wee tike and not enough on your wand," he said. He moved towards her.

_**KKRRkKKrrrKKKRRRKKKKRACKA-BOOM!** _

Lightning lit up the room as the dark silhouette rose up behind Sirius— all wings and ears and claws—

A mouth full of teeth snapped down on Sirius' hand and bit down, razoring into his flesh and shattering bone even as another shape arose and bore down on his shoulder with a fleshy crushing  _ **Ssskkkrrrr-EEEK!**_

Sirius screamed shrilly as the first one jerked its head and both the wands and the hand went flying into the wall with a  _ **THNK-schnap!**_  The other sank its teeth surgically into his spinal column as the ozone in the air rose—

_**ZZzzzzZZTTTTTT-BOOM!** _

A powerful arc of raw energy turned Sirius' body into a virtual lightning rod, then his scream was cut off abruptly as his body shook in uncontrollable convulsions until he fell— flat on his face in the middle of the Potters' living room.

The first dragon-bat fetched the wands, sans the bloody hand that he'd neatly severed, as the other—

Hermione snuffled inside the crib, still too high-strung to make the shift back, but as her monstrous head wedged into the crib, baby Harry squealed joyfully in pure excitement.

" _KABOOM!"_  he cried, reaching up to hug Hermione's face, giggling like mad. " _BOOM!_   _Boom!"_

As Hermione folded in on herself to take on her normal form, Harry's eyes grew comically wide as his tiny hands grasped some of her soft feathers.

"Fuh, fuh!" he babbled, petting them.

Severus, having reverted to his normal form too, came up beside her, having moved zombie-James and Lily (who had fainted in terror) onto the nearby couch. "I sent off a Patronus to Master Shacklebolt."

"They'll be here soon," Hermione said softly, picking up baby Harry.

She cradled the baby boy in her arms, one wing wrapped under him to keep him both warm and protected.

" _Kaboom!"_  he repeated again, clapping his hands. He reached out and grabbed some of Severus' feathers and fussed. "Fuh, fuh!"

Hermione's gaze softened at the sight, and she carefully ruffled the boy's untidy mop of black hair. "I know I should maybe, as a healer, be stopping the bleed, but— oh dear, I seem to forgotten how."

Severus' lips pressed into a crooked line. "I'm sure it will come back to you— tomorrow. Though, to be fair, your lightning  _did_ cauterise his wounds quite effectively."

Harry babbled nonsense as he explored Snape's buttons on his robes and put his mouth on one.

Severus gave Hermione a look, pained and awkward.

"Little guy, that's not going to get you dinner, I fear," Hermione said moving him to settle him back into the crook of her wing.

_**Crack. CRACK. CRaaaCK!** _

Unspeakables arrived en masse, their pure white robes flashing like moonlight in the dark of night.

Severus signed to them, pointing to James and Lily and then Sirius. The silently took care of them, Disapparated the moment they were sure each person was safely in their range.

Master Morgan landed in the doorway, his massive wings folding as he squeezed through the somewhat abused door jamb. He wingwalked over to them, sticking his face up to the baby tucked safely in Hermione's wing.

Harry's green eyes grew very, very wide as his hands reached up and patted the dragon-bat on the muzzle. " _KahBOOM!"_  he exclaimed. "Da. Da."

"Congratulations," Severus said to his master. "It's a boy."

* * *

Lily awoke in a land that was all white— the almost sterile innermost workings of St Mungo's. "Ng?"

"Ah, Mrs Potter, you're awake," a healer in lime green robes said with a smile. "Welcome back to us."

Lily looked around and cried out, shooting up and then crying out as her head throbbed painfully. "Nnngh!"

"Now, had I  _known_ you were going to do that, I would have used soft restraints," the healer tutted at her. "Please try to lay back and just relax, Mrs Potter. You hit your head on the way down, as they say, and you gave yourself a rather nasty internal bleed. You are, so far, stable and healing, but I would rather you not test your limits so soon."

"Where's my Harry?"

"Do not worry, Mrs Potter. Your son is in excellent hands. The Ministry has placed him with a pre-vetted, trustworthy magical foster family to take care of him until you and your husband are pronounced fit to be released from our care."

"What? NO! He's in danger! Sirius will—"

"Mr Black is unable to harm you, your husband, or your son, Mrs Potter," the healer said gently. "This I can promise you."

Lily rubbed her temples as scrambled pieces of the pertinent images came back to her. "A-a some kind of winged monster took off his hand! They could go after Harry!"

The healer shook his head. "No, Mrs Evans, those two were Animagus Unspeakables who saved you and your family from Mr Black. Your husband and your son are perfectly safe, and so are you, my dear."

"Wha?" Lily moaned. "Nothing makes any sense."

"Rest, Mrs Potter.  _Please_. It will all come back to you as you heal, but it shouldn't be rushed. You are quite safe here in our care. That is all you need to know."

Lily, feeling the weariness dragging her down at last, lay back on the bed, utterly exhausted. "What happened to James, my husband?"

"Imperius curse," the healer said. "Quite a nasty attack at that, I'm afraid. It will take a few days to repair the damage. He fought it with all he had— and it hurt some of the neural, ah, excuse me, he hurt himself."

"Oh," Lily said, feeling confused again. "Thank you."

The healer gave her a swift smile.

"May I ask your name?"

The healer turned. "Healer Benjamin Batchelder."

Lily's eyes widened.

"Ah, so you  _do_ remember me, Mrs Potter."

"You—" Lily flushed in mortification. "I once accused you of cheating in Herbology."

"Yes, and I served a week of detentions for that," the healer said, raising his eyebrow. "I do hope your friend Ms McKinnon finally told you the truth, hrm?"

Lily flinched. "Yes. I'm really sorry that I didn't believe you."

The healer snorted a laugh. "Children rarely ever believe their imagined rivals, whether in sports or academics," he said. "Who could have known I was actually there making an ointment for your friend's rather embarrassing rash, hrm?"

Lily flushed bright red.

"Rest now, Mrs Potter. I will have a lunch tray sent up for you at the noon hour. I will also send in a Mediwitch to assist you in expressing milk to send for your infant, if you so wish. It can be… rather uncomfortable for nursing mothers, from what I understand."

"Thank you, Healer Batchelder."

"You are welcome, Mrs Potter."

* * *

"Da! Da!" Harry squealed happily from his perch on Master Morgan's back as he leaned over a bunch of parchments.

"You're  _such_ an insufferable softie," Kings teased Manfred, grinning like a madman.

The dragon-bat smiled, showing off his pointed teeth. "It's my animal magnetism."

"He's going to be so upset when he loses his dragon-bat cuddle-toys," Kingsley said.

Morgan snorted. "Ah, but he'll be back with his loving family. He'll forget us soon enough."

"Doubtful," Severus said as he finished writing in his notebook. "Hermione and I still remember the first day we met  _you_."

"You were also nine."

"It was particularly memorable."

"Seh! Seh!" Harry said, reaching up to pet Severus. He sighed. "How terribly insufferable," he said, cradling Harry in one wing and rocking him.

"Wheee!" Harry babbled. "Seh!"

"Here you go, little man," Hermione said, plunking down a small plush dragonbat into his hands, and he promptly stuffed its head into his mouth and chewed on it.

He pulled it out and squealed, babbled, shook the bat plushie, and then very clearly said, "Her-my-nee!"

All four heads turned to stare at Harry.

The baby stuck the bat plush back into his mouth and giggled.

Severus glowered at Hermione.

Hermione looked upward as if searching for her halo. "Oops?"

"So much for anonymity," Kingsley said, taking a generous sip from his very tall glass of apple cider.

Morgan chuckled as he continued to write over the parchments. "Just wait until he starts trying to  _fly_."

Kings shot him a glare. "No more corruption of innocents, Manfred!"

"I can't help that we're so memorable, you old electric feather duster," Morgan said with a sniff. "Try sitting on his crib and singing Thunderbird songs or something."

Kingsley just rolled his eyes.

Harry babbled and bonked Severus on the nose with his bat plushie. "Shhev-russ," he said. "Russ. Russ. Russ," he repeated with each bonk. "Shhev-russ."

"I'm putting a lid on his crib so he can't fly out and cause mischief," Kings announced as he puttered off to the shower.

"He's a baby," Morgan muttered. "Not a ruddy hippogriff."

"At this rate, he'll be one by morning— or a sodding Peryton."

Morgan rolled his eyes, but there was a smile plastered on his muzzle as baby Harry bonked both Severus and Hermione with his new bat plushie, squealing with delight.

* * *

_End of Chapter 3_

* * *

**A/N:**  Hey, Happy Easter (Almost) folks! A basket loaded with helpful, adorable pastel-coloured plush spiders for everyone!

 **A/N2:**  Poor Lily is going to be traumatised whens she realises that her baby started talking while she was off recovering— and saying her little sister's name will probably go over about as well as a 70-ton overweight hippogriff… on  _fire._

So here is where you guys get to ring in and tell me what you'd really like to see. Post a review and tell me if you want to see Hermione and Lily make up at last or not. I'm still on the fence about it. I don't see her making up with Petunia—  _ever_ — but she and Lily just might have a chance.

 **P.S.**  Chapter 4 will probably be awhile as Easter weekend is going to be busy, busy, busy with a side of  _extra_ busy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yawn… evil class schedule. Whyyyyyy?
> 
> Beta Love: The Perpetually-Sleepy Dragon and the Rose, the Abused-and-Tired-Dutchgirl01, and the Dominator-of-Assassin’s-Creed-Commander Shepard, and one Hollowg1rl who lost her way out of Feudal Japan and ended up in Britain (whut?)
> 
> Shoutout to Bookwormkat: Thank you so much for the incredible gift. I’m almost afraid to write in it, but when I do, I’ll be thinking of you *teardrop*
> 
> Thanks (belated) to Meldz for the Christmas gift. I kept thinking I wrote you and then I kept forgetting to check if I had then assuming I did. ARGH! Thank you so much <3
> 
> Spiders: No money being made disclaimer here!

 

 

**Learning to Fly**

Chapter 4

_Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world._

_For, indeed, that's all who ever have._

Margaret Mead

  


Mr Evans waited in the arboretum and found himself staring at a small child with a unicorn’s horn in the middle of their forehead. Above her was a young boy with bat wings that was hanging upside down and batting at her hair.

“Hello,” the girl said, offering him an Asian pear. “Do you like pears?”

“I do,” he admitted.

“These are really good,” she said.

“You waiting on someone?” the boy asked.

Mr Evans nodded. “My daughter.”

“Is she special like us?”

“She is quite special, yes.”

“Does she breathe fire?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Can she break glass with a shriek?”

“I certainly hope not.”

“Freeze things in ice cubes?”

“That’s dreadful.”

“Oh! I know! She can lure people to their death with a siren’s song!”

Mr Evans flinched slightly. “Uh…”

“Hey, dad,” Hermione said as she landed with Severus, folding their wings behind them before sitting down.

“Apprentice Evans! Apprentice Snape!”

Hermione ended up with an armful of unicorn child as Severus had a bat kid glomping his chest.

“Hello, loves. How are you this morning?”

“We’re good!” the bat kid said, snuggling into Severus with obvious affection. “We’re waiting for Master Katharos. We’re supposed to sniff out trouble at Gringott’s today.”

“Sniff out or get yourself into?” Severus asked, giving the two of them a knowing look.

“Ummmm,” the kids said together. “Yes?”

“Hn,” Severus muttered.

The kids suctioned onto the two apprentices, showing no signs of wanting to leave.

“So, you found the notes?” Hermione asked.

Mr Evans nodded. “Your mum and I got into quite a big row over them. She think it doesn’t matter because if anyone finds out her babies will be placed in some kind of institution. She’s seeing someone now to try and break the anxiety, but it’s going to take time.”

“She can’t handle special kids?” the unicorn girl asked. “My mum and da couldn’t. Da tried to saw off my horn to make me look normal.”

“No, Crystal, my mum actually handled my wings pretty well. It was finding out that my older sisters wanted me dead that kinda threw her for a loop.”

“Einstein’s parents tried to give him an exercisement.”

“Exorcism?”

Crystal nodded. “Yup!”

“Our problems are starting to look pretty tame by comparison,” Mr Evans confessed.

“You having family problems?” Einstein asked, stretching out one wing and then the other.

Mr Evans looked a little sheepish at being interrogated by an even younger winged child.

“You should come hunt eggs with us,” Crystal said.

“Hrm?” Mr Evans said.

“The masters colour all these beautiful eggs and hide them in the parks for us to find. The person who finds the most gets a really cool prize!”

“What kind of prize?”

“We don’t know, it’s a secret!”

“A secret to everybody!”

Mr Evans hrmed. “I suppose I _could_ stay and watch and see how you do…”

“Yay!” the children cheered.

“So what have people won in the past?” he asked.

Einstein looked thoughtful and tugged on Severus’ ear, whispering into it. Severus whispered back. “Oh!”the child exclaimed. “Extra special truffle oil and a gift certificate for the book of our choice from Flourish and Blotts!”

“Impressive,” Mr Evans said. “That’s the bookstore in the cramped street behind the tavern, yes?”

The children nodded excitedly.

“Sometimes, the prizes are a owl from Eyelops,” Hermione said with a smile. “Or even fancy gryphon quills. Each year it’s something different, but the competition is always fierce.”

The children pounced Mr Evans. “You’ll come, won’t you? Cheer for us?”

Einstein seemed to get an idea. “Be on our team!”

“Yeah!” Crystal cried. “Be on our team!”

Hermione and Severus chuckled.

Crystal and Einstein’s eye went wide. “Oh no! We’ll need to be really fast to get them from Apprentices Snape and Evans!” They looked distraught.

“Fear not,” Severus said. “We shall not stand between you and victory if you truly wish to win.”

Crystal and Einstein beamed and shook Mr Evans a little with their small hands. “You’ll join us, right?”

“Umm…”

“You really should, dad,” Hermione said. “Think of the fun.”

“Think of it as getting to know the magical world, one egg at a time,” Severus said. “I’d imagine you are curious.”

Mr Evans nodded. “I am— but, Hermione—”

“I’ve decided to just let it go, dad,” she said. “The past cannot be changed, but maybe we can make something of now. I’ve realised—” Hermione closed her eyes glistening slightly from between her almost-closed lids. “I cannot move forward when I am stuck in the past. It is not fair to you and mum, Severus—” She looked at Severus somewhat sadly. “Or to myself.”

She squared her shoulders. “The past makes you afraid that that it will all happen again. That you were never good enough. That you never _will_ be. It makes you settle for the comfort of what you know, afraid that if you risk it changing you will never have it again. Maybe that is true, but perhaps what you have will be better for its loss.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I will not forget, but I _will_ forgive because I must forgive myself in order to move on. To forgive myself requires I forgive the one who made me feel the guilt to begin with, and I am done with it.” Her wings shook slightly, but as Severus curved his wing tighter around her, she calmed.

“You’ve already grown up,” Mr Evans said, his eyes filled with true regret. “And I have missed most of it.”

Hermione reached out and touched his hand— and Severus looked at her with concern for her healer’s Legilimency— and very tenderly clasped his fingers. “I have a long life ahead of me, provided I don’t do anything stupid and pine myself to death after having waited too long to tell the one I love that I _do_ love him only to have him run off and be with someone else.”

She said nothing more, not even looking at Severus. Her body did not move, but instead seemed to curl into itself.

“Hermione, whatever is stopping you?” her father asked, visibly concerned. “I was young once too, you know. I know the pull of true love well enough.”

She stood patting her father’s hand. “My love wasn’t true enough, father,” she said sadly. “Or I would have held his to begin with, but I wasn’t enough. And another woman twisted it into something horrible. I wasn’t strong enough. I didn’t fight. I didn’t— even suspect. And who... if I _had_ deserved that love, father— I would have fought for him. Tooth and nail. Claw and wing. Heart and soul. But I gave up. I just… let him go, and I deserve his scorn.”

Hermione clenched his hand and then broke the contact, standing and leaving in a blur of wings and robes.

Severus, his face seeming to turn even paler than usual, could only stare blankly at the place where Hermione had been. His wings drooped with the sheer weight of his pain.

Mr Evans tried to look Severus in the face. “What are your intentions, son? With my daughter.”

Severus looked up, his face framed by his long black hair. “To love her,” he whispered. “If she would only let me.”

“A little late for that, son,” Mr Evans said quietly. “You already love her.”

Severus jerked, his body twitching slightly. “How can you know that when even she does not?”

Mr Evans sighed softly. “For the same reason I could I never see that my other daughters wanted my youngest dead, Severus. It is hardest to see what is right in front of you— what has always _been_ there. Sometimes you have to almost lose something to want it bad enough to really work for it.”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, Severus, but I can tell you are a person who loves deeply but keeps it close to your heart, hidden and protected.” Mr Evans tugged on his collar. “Women are different creatures of the world. They often feel things around them so very strongly and yet close their eyes here and now in favour of the then and later. We males, we want what we want, and sometimes we stumble towards the future. Sometimes we get stuck in the past— missing what is right in front of us. But sometimes the male and the female come together and figure the other one out— just enough to remember that we are all too human and fallible. We are all strong and weak, both perfect and imperfect, wonderous and mundane. While people like me have to make our magic via song and craft, your magic is something very real.”

Mr Evans touched his arm in comfort. “Hermione has always strived to be perfect, thinking that it will somehow earn my and my wife’s love, but she forgets in her talent that it’s okay to be wrong sometimes. That it’s perfectly normal. That it’s life.”

Severus looked at him, clearly somewhat dubious.

“If there is anything I’ve learned from this, Severus, is that there is no one else she allows so close, touches so easily, trusts so obviously. It is a gift. Now, go find her and tell her how wrong she is— and perhaps it will be the first time she is actually _glad_ to be.”

Severus gave a soft smile. “I see now why she is willing to touch you.”

Mr Evans tilted his head. “How does that connect?”

“She’s a healer,” Severus said. “Touching people can be— painful for her. If she is not sufficiently prepared for it.”

Mr Evan’s eyes widened. “And are you a healer as well, Severus?”

Severus shook his head. “No. I am her shield.”

* * *

 

As Severus saw Hermione sitting on the edge of the hot springs, he approached, his secret weapon in hand. He sat beside her, using his grandmother’s brush and slowly going through her hair. He untangled every unruly strand before he braided it to go down both sides of her head before pulling the rest back into a joint braid down the middle of her longer, unbraided hair. When he was done, he set down the brush and worked on her wings, feather by feather, using his fingers to soothe, his oil to maintain, and his touch to comfort.

He gently pressed his face into her hair and inhaled. “Hermione.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her wings drooping.

“She messed both of us up,” Severus said. “Do you think yourself alone with the guilt? I allowed myself to— to even think there could be anyone but you.”

“You had a spell influence you,” Hermione said quietly. “I had no such excuse.”

“Because of it you doubted it was true. I broke something precious. It should have been you. I— you respected me, even when I least deserved it, trying to preserve my honour on a choice that hurt you. Please—”

“You deserve better than me, Severus,” Hermione said, one tear falling down her cheek. She tenderly groomed his wings, putting his feathers into place as she combed them and oiled them.

“Maybe we both buggered somewhere, Hermione,” Severus said, “but I—”

Hermione shook her head adamantly. “No.”

“Hermione—”

Hermione pressed her fingers to his mouth and shook her head. “No, Severus.”

He grasped her fingers. “Hermione, why did you kiss me there in the park that day?”

Hermione flushed, turning her head away. “You were spiralling. Hurting yourself.”

“Was that the only reason?”

“It was the only reason that mattered.”

Severus frowned, turning her head to face him. “Hermione. Is it so hard to admit you cared for me? That you _still_ do?”

Hermione shook, her wings trembling. She jerked her head from side to side and looked away from him.

As Severus’ hand left her wings, she turned towards him as she felt the absence and realised that their closeness was something she never wanted to be without.

Slowly, oh so slowly, her hand reached to touch his face, her fingers brushing against his temples as she opened up her mind to feel what he was feeling— to see the truth—if he still cared, if she could be forgiven.

Rage.

_She won’t even fight for me._

_She won’t even try._

_She won’t even— maybe she’s right. I love her and she won’t even give us a chance!_

_What’s the use in loving someone who won’t even admit she has feelings?!_

Hermione pulled away, tears forming in her eyes as her Occlumency shields slammed down as she gasped, a cry stuck in her throat.

_Pain._

_Hatred._

_Rage._

She let out a few pained breaths as she stumbled to her feet, wiping the tears from her face. Her shields broke, and she put them up. They broke again, as her face twisted in agony.

_Despair._

_Hopelessness._

He hates me.

He _hates_ me!

Her Occlumency shields slammed down once more as every emotion in her body was cut off and shoved aways. Her body stiffened. Her eyes became… empty. Cold.

She fled out the hot springs, summoning her robes to her with one hand as she wrapped them around herself and swept out the door.

Severus clenched his fist as his breaths came in rapid gasps, pain warring with despair, anger combining with guilt. She’d tried to touch him to read his sincerity and he had— he had—

Severus screamed, his body shaking as he collapsed, folding in on himself as he slammed his head into his arms as he clutched the ground.

* * *

 

Hermione worked in the infirmary almost nonstop the rest of the week, dragging herself both out in the morning early and even falling asleep in the cots in the infirmary. Severus tried to meet her for lunch only to realise she hadn’t stopped to eat and had thrown herself into a complicated healing that required her full attention. He tried to meet her to walk home, only to find out she hadn’t left and wouldn’t be for some time.

When they were assigned to work together, she came and did everything she was required to do, not once could he say she did any less than if not more than was expected, but while their magic combined as it always had, that gentle rapport that always been there to support them was gone.

She had shut a door between them, trying to protect herself from the pain— and as logical as it was for her to do to preserve her thoughts and keep focus as a healer, he knew she was hurting.

He knew that he just had to get her to see the whole story— all she had caught was his surface turmoil— his anger and hatred for the woman who had ruined something so incredibly precious to him, his own self-hatred for feeling helpless and being able to do nothing.

But that would require her to open herself to him again—

And how was he going to do _that_?

* * *

 

Hermione frowned as one of the Gwyllgi wagged its tail at her, trotting over with a basket with a packed lunch inside for her. It whined at her endearingly, placing the basket in her lap and its head as well.

Hermione sighed, soothing the beast with her hands.

She placed the basket on her desk, closing her eyes as her inner turmoil cried out for her to pay attention to her own needs, her own healing. She missed him the moment she had closed her pathways down. It had killed something inside her, blocking her mind and heart to the gentle touch that had always been him.

_You know he didn’t mean it. You just surprised him. He was frustrated. You know how he is!_

Hermione picked through the basket. Assorted olives and chunks of cheese, a crisp pickle, a carefully-wrapped tuna and sweetcorn sandwich, a packet of salt-and-vinegar crisps and a charmed goblet filled with her favourite Fuji apple juice.

She closed her eyes.

They had never needed words before. So why did she insist on having them now? Why did she accept his emotions and confused turmoil as an excuse to shut him out, to push him away? Why did she not give him a chance to explain—

Because she was _scared_.

In her heart, she was utterly terrified that something terrible would happen if she admitted just how much she had been depending on one person for strength. Her bravery was nothing without his warm presence beside her.

Hermione took one of the green olives and ate it, savouring the flavour.

He _always_ knew just what she liked.

As she lay her hand over the Gwyllgi’s head, she took a deep, cleansing breath and dropped the impenetrable wall she had so carefully erected between herself and her emotions— between herself and her oldest, dearest friend— and his presence came rushing in like a flood consuming the river banks. She let out a pained sob as the emotion she had been denying herself consumed her.

Suddenly, he was there.

His warm wings wrapped around her. His presence wrapped around her. His sorrow—his relief.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to his body as her wings tucked around his back and under his wings. “ I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry.”

He let out his breath and sighed. “Stupid girl,” he whispered into her curls. “You’re human. We are all… idiots.”

Hermione looked into his face, staring deep into his black eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

Severus held her against him, a ragged breath shaking his body. “Please do not push me away again, Hermione. I have _ached_ for you.”

Hermione shivered against him, for a moment she saw herself as a little girl again, huddling under his warm wings in the deep forest for protection.

“Please don’t hide your thoughts from me again,” she whispered, her voice seemingly small and unsure. “Even if they are unsure thoughts. Even if you’re angry. Tell me, _please_. Explain to me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, cupping her head gently in his hands. “I am not very brave, but I promise I will try.”

Hermione pressed her lips tenderly to his. “Severus, you’re the bravest person I know.”

“You’re completely ‘round the twist, you know that?”

Hermione smiled. “All that and more.” She touched his nose lightly with one slender finger. “Even more so when you’re with me.”

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple as he breathed in the warm, familiar scent of _her_.

When Lily saw her child again, it was such a great relief. He was perfectly healthy and happy, and he didn’t seem traumatised in the slightest.

“Kah— **_BOOM!”_ ** Harry cried joyfully, holding out his little arms like wings. “Rrrraaahhhhh!” he cried, bouncing up and down in the bouncy seat that her parents had given her.

Lily gave Harry his rice porridge and wondered when he would say mum or dad instead of random sound effects.

Harry nommed on the ear of his bat plushie and squealed, smashing his spoon into porridge. **_“SEH!”_ ** he cried. “ Seehhhvruss!” He zoomed his bat plushie around like it was flying and then dunked it in the porridge.

“Would be nice if he actually said actual names,” James said, scratching his head in bemusement.

“Russ, russ, russ,” Harry said, beating his spoon against the bouncy seat’s miniature table. There was spilt porridge _every_ where. “Fhhhhhred!” he giggled. “Fhhred-kings. Sawwwding Keeeengs!”

Lily stared at Harry. “I have no idea what he’s babbling on about.”

James picked Harry up and cleaned him off with a spell.

Harry slapped his palms to James’ cheeks and repeated it to a rhythm. “Her-my-knee! Her-my-knee!” he bashed his bat plushie into James’ face and then tried to stick it in his ear. “Ka- **_boom!_ ** **”**

Lily’s face went ashen, causing James to stare at his wife with concern. “What’s wrong, love?”

“That’s not just baby babble, James. That’s a _name_ ,” she whispered.

James frowned. “All that babble was a name?”

“Hermione was… _is_ … my sister’s name.”

James frowned and then his eyebrows arched as he remembered one particular day in Diagon Alley so many years ago. “That little witch in Diagon Alley. The one Sirius had the hots for.”

Lily wrinkled her nose in distaste at the mention of Sirius. “Yes.”

Lily frowned and attempted to regain her thoughts. “You remember how I said my other sister Petunia and I did some really bad things to our little sister before I realised I was magical too?”

“Yes,” James replied. “You tried to get her to—”

Lily nodded. “I’m not proud of it, though I don’t think Petunia regrets her part in it. She still thinks we’re both freaks, only me even more so because she doesn’t know Hermione is still alive.”

“You never told her?”

“Not after she tried to burn the witch, no,” Lily said.

“She— _oh_.” James bounced Harry until he grew tired, then he gently placed him back into his crib.

James seemed to realise there was more going on here than his wife was telling him. “What does your little sister mean to you now, Lily?”

Lily looked at Harry, who lay peacefully sleeping in his crib. “I would never want Harry to be treated as I treated Hermione. Never. I would never want him to think what made him special was a fluke. I never got to tell her how sorry I was. How stupid I was. How cruel— and jealous.”

“Jealous? Didn’t you say you were both magical?”

“I—”

James stared at her.

“I blamed my accidental magic on her— at the time, I even _believed_ it was her.”

“Oh, Lily,” James said with a sigh, pulling her into a hug. “Why didn’t she go to Hogwarts?”

“I always figured that seeing me in Diagon Alley that day scared her off,” Lily replied. “I couldn’t even imagine where she might have gone. I _still_ can’t.”

“Do you think she knew Harry was yours?” James asked.

“I don’t know,” Lily said. “How could she have? Just after a single meeting in Diagon Alley?”

“Hermione is not exactly a common name, Lily,” James said.

“I _know!_ ” Lily said, distressed.

Harry woke, fussing, and Lily cooed and calmed him. She gave James a look.

“Look, I’ll see if I can talk to Moody, maybe get him to grease some wheels and find out who took care of Harry while we were stuck at Mungo’s, okay?” James said.

“No one would tell us, James,” Lily said, wringing her hands. “What does that mean?”

“Well, if it _was_ your sister,” James pointed out, “I don’t imagine that would have helped you calm down all that much.”

Lily glared at him.

James looked at her sternly, and she slumped. “You’re right.”

James sighed. “Well, Harry has been in good hands all this time.That’s what’s most important, isn’t it?”

Lily looked haunted. “Do you really think we don’t have to run anymore?”

James took her hands. “Lily, if ol’ Alastor Moody says we don’t have to run anymore, trust me in saying we don’t have to run anymore.”

“That feeling hasn’t gone away. I still feel—”

James pulled her close. “Harry is going to be just fine. Sirius isn’t going to be sniffing around here anymore either.”

“I just remember— something _much_ scarier than Sirius.”

James sighed. “There will always be something bigger and scarier, but we are all together. Harry is fine, and I will look into seeing if we can meet up with the ones that took care of Harry while were in the hospital.”

Lily nodded, her face wrinkled in distress.

* * *

 

**_“Shoooddding Keeeengs!”_ ** Harry cried, reaching out to Shacklebolt as he stood by Alastor Moody.

“I’m _never_ going to live that down,” Kingsley sighed, taking the feisty baby into his arms.

Harry moved his plush bat around and made it land on Kingsley’s nose. “Ka- **_boom!_ ** ” he said. “Shhhhwaaaaa!”

James stood somewhat gobsmacked as the infamous Kingsley Shacklebolt— the man Moody trusted with his life— knew his son. And, his son obviously knew him—

Harry giggled, and much to James’ surprise, he started to babble more, forming odd words and experimenting with communication.

“Well, let’s do the meet and greet,” Moody said, scrunching his face a little. “Better done without the other half so you can adjust first.”

James blinked.

_What?_

“Come on then, Trainee Potter,” Moody barked even as he pushed Kings along with his knuckles.

Kingsley sputtered in indignation, but his dark eyes were warm and amused.

The walk led them deep into the Ministry and into an area he did not expect: the DoM. No business he had ever done before had led him down to the Department of Mysteries, and he had no desire to run into the intimidating folk that usually came out of the place. The Unspeakables were like boogeymen in the Ministry. Even the Minister for Magic preferred to keep herself well out of there.

When they passed in by the magic doors, another set of doors, and then a gate only to come to a desk in the middle of room with no doors, James felt like he was being led into a maze.

“Ah, Auror Moody,” a witch greeted him. “I see you finally decided to visit us again.’

Was Alastor Moody _blushing?_

“They are waiting for you in atrium fifteen, Master Shacklebolt,” she said to Kingsley.

“Ah, thank you, Hazel,” Kingsley replied. “And it’s Kingsley, for Merlin’s sake.”

Hazel smiled at him, giving him the wink.

_Master Shacklebolt?_ James asked himself. Wasn’t he just an Auror?

“Alright, Alright, before you go in,” Hazel said. “I need an Oath from you, young man.”

James stared, trying not to be utterly intimidated. He held out his wand.

“Swear on your magic and your wand that you will not reveal anything you see here to anyone else outside the DoM unless permission is given specifically that such is allowed. And you are not to take the word of children as permission, no matter _how_ charming they are.”

Kingsley snorted, and Moody sniffed. “Well, go on then, Potter. I didn’t bring you down this far just so you could fail at getting past the door.”

James cracked his neck and said “I do solemnly swear on my magic and my wand that I shall not reveal anything I see here today to anyone outside the DoM unless permission is given specifically to the contrary. I will not take the word of children as permission, no matter how convincing.”

His wand flashed, and he felt a shiver go down his body.

“Ah, there you go then,” Hazel said, using her wand to make a nametag fly over and smack into his robes. It was a strange, glowing purple heart with his name on it “Sorry, the children helped make the nametags today,” she said with a smile. “It was either that one or the bright pink one with glitter.”

James flashed a smile, unsure what to say, even as Moody grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into a door that just appeared out of nowhere. “Nice meeting you,” he managed to blurt as he was yanked away.

As they walked passed a number of atriums and even more side rooms, they finally reached number fifteen. The sign was hanging around statue of a pink flamingo, or at least so he thought before the bird squawked and ran off into the atrium.

Kingsley chuckled. “Kids are always practicing on the signs. Last week it was a turkey.”

James’ eyes widened.

_Wooosh!_

Two children flew over, literally flying, one with charcoal grey wings and one with the wings of a bat. They chased each other through the trees, giggling.

“Come back with my lunch, Eustace!”

“Nu-uh!” Eustace cried, crowing as he held a basket lunch in his hands.

“I’m going to bake you into a macaroni casserole!” the girl threatened.

“Gotta catch me first!” Eustace said, doing a flip in the air and zooming off into the next atrium.

Or so he _tried_.

Great black wings blocked the way, as a huge almost-bat shape blocked the way. Magic crackled down its feathered back as it let out a **_SCREEEEE!_ **

Eustace pulled back and landed, looking shamed as the dragonbat growled at him, landing as it transformed into a dark-haired man with long black hair that framed his face. His nose was distinctly aqualine and his features sharp, almost too sharp to be alive instead of being a sculpture. Great black wings folded against his back, the large black feathers sliding against each other.

“Return the lunch,” he said.

Eustace grovelled. “Yes, Apprentice Snape!” He hastily thrust the basket into the little girl’s hands.

Snape curled his lip. “Get out of my sight.”

The boy paled and scampered off.

“That was a bit harsh,” James murmured to himself.

Alastor shrugged. “You would rather him get away with stealing?”

“No, but— I mean he was just teasing.”

“And that makes it okay?” Snape asked, his dark eyes piercing through him.

“He’s just a kid,” James protested.

“Shevvvvruss!” Harry squealed joyfully, holding out his hands and squirming. With a blast of accidental magic he was in the dark-haired wizard’s arms.

“Hello there, Harry,” Snape said as Harry bonked his bat against his face.

Harry babbled happily. “Ka- **_boom!_ ** ”

Snape raised one brow.

James stared.

“Auror Potter, this is Apprentice Severus Snape. He and his partner were the ones taking care of little Harry while you were— occupied.” Kingsley smiled as Snape gave him a respectful public bow.

“Master,” Snape said.

“Partner?” James said, confused. He eyed Harry as a thousand different scenarios went through his head. “Oh, I mean— there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said, flushing slightly.

Snape gave him a furrowed brow expression.

The beat of wings stirred the air, and a young woman landed with a spread of honey and cream coloured feathers. She bowed to Kingsley, nodded to Moody, and then wrapped her wings around Snape’s body as his curled around her back.

Harry babbled happily. “Her-my-knee! Shevvvrusss!”

“Hello, pet,” Hermione greeted, touching foreheads with the infant and smilingly warmly.

“Tell me, Mr Potter. Do you always assume that partners are male and also lovers?” Snape said with a sniff. “I’m sure your wife will be…  quite impressed when you are assigned your own partner as an Auror.”

James reddened in embarrassment as Moody slapped him soundly upside the head, muttering ‘idiot’ not _quite_ under his breath.

“Severus,” Hermione purred. “Don’t torment the poor man. He has neither practice nor natural resistance to your scalpel edge.”

“You need resistance and practice to speak to me?” Severus asked innocently, feigning hurt and disbelief.

“Not everyone had to suffer countless years living with your snark,” she replied.

“Hrmph,” he replied, turning away from her.

Harry made smooching noises as he playfully tugged on Severus’ feathers.

Hermione turned, laughing. “Oh, Harry, you’re so adorable,”  she said scooping him up and giving Severus a kiss on the cheek. Severus gave her a brief roll of the eyes, but his warm wings extended to envelop her.

“You are _in_ sufferable.”

Hermione just smiled at him.

“Fuwhy!” Harry said. “Fuwhy!  Fuwhy!”

“You spoil that child,” Alastor said, sighing. “He’s going to end up dangling upside down from a broom catching Snitches with his _teeth_.”

“Don’t be so hard on them,” Manfred said as he winged in, landing on the nearby branch and dangling upside down. “The land-baby is a truly adorable child.”

James’ eyes went wide at the arrival of the dragon-bat.

“Master,” Severus and Hermione said, bowing their heads in greeting.

“Ah, this must be the father of the land child, hrm?” Master Morgan’s sulfurous eyes stared into him. “You almost didn’t get him back. Little Harry charmed his way into a great many hearts in here.”

James snatched Harry back quickly, immediately distressed.

Severus rolled his eyes at the other man. “Don’t be so thick, Potter. If we _really_ wished to kidnap your child, would we have given him back to you? After all you have seen today? Don’t you think we couldn’t have had him just simply… disappear?”

Alastor thumped James about the head again. “Are you trying to make me look like an idiot for training a bloody berk like you, hrm? Trying to insult Master Shacklebolt and Morgan’s apprentices on your very first visit? Not that they’d pull it on you, but they _do_ outrank you, Potter.”

James flinched at the rebuke. “I’m sorry, it’s just— Everything we did was for Harry. We tried to protect him, and in the end, it was my own best mate and not some Dark Lord that— that—”

Severus’ jaw tightened as he said, “I would think that such paranoia would have ended with the taking of your best mate’s wand hand. He is no longer a threat to you.”

James blinked. “But he’s in Azkaban?”

“Yes.”

“And you know he’s an Animagus?”

“We suspected when the black dog was just a little _too_ curious about your home,” Hermione commented.  

“We used to keep our friend company and used our Animagus forms to sneak out and see him at night,”  James said quietly. “It was perfectly innocent at the time. We just wanted to help him. Keep him company. But— sometime later, I started wondering where Sirius was going off to, and then Lily started being really paranoid around him. And we couldn’t prove it but— then his parents died, one right after the other, and suddenly we—” James choked as he couldn’t say anything further. He struggled and then gasped for air. “Fuck.”

Alastor seemed to abruptly realise what was going on. “Damned Albus—”

James gave him the eye and meaningful eyebrows.

“I can’t talk about it either, Potter,” Alastor gritted out, his teeth grinding together.

James slammed his fist into the tree, and the pain seemed to give him the ability to breathe again. “Lily always believed his parents didn’t die naturally. She heard the portraits whispering and then she talked to the portrait of Walburga Black. Lily told me the portrait insisted that it was true, that Sirius killed them both,” he said, one hand rubbing his injured one. “That’s when we left— tried to distance ourselves from Sirius and the Order.”

Master Morgan gave Kingsley the eye.

“I think it’s about time to trace the leaves,” Manfred said. “I have a feeling you have been snared in this deception as well, Kings.”

“Shhhoooddding Keengs!” Harry blurted, shaking his bat.

Kingsley sighed, shaking his head. “I blame _you_ for that, Manfred.”

The dragon-bat just shrugged. “Well, there is one thing we must do first, and it has been long overdue. We must or the risk of breaking whatever enchantment you are under will spread to me as your fellow master and them as they are bound to our magic in service. I do not wish to risk them for some— entanglement you have gotten yourself into.”

Kingsley’s eyes widened but then he nodded. “You are right, of course.”

 

* * *

 

Hermione found herself trembling in front of all the masters and the apprentices, and Severus’ warm wing wrapped around her from the side, offering her his comfort without words. The tests had been grueling, but that was nothing to the expectation that she had failed, made some fatal mistake, and botched something so significant that she would have killed fifty patients in one go. Severus, she expected, had done very well— he always did, and without even a flinch of nervousness on his face.

“Don’t be stupid,” Severus whispered to her. “You did just fine.”

She stared at him, clearly not feeling it.

Others stood on the dias, awaiting the results. Either they would have passed, or they remained with their masters for another season to take the tests again… until they got it right. It wasn’t shameful, but— no apprentice wanted to make their master feel as if they had failed to instill the greater lessons that would make them ready for life outside the DoM, should they choose it.

There were whispers down the line, and Hermione looked to see one of the younger apprentices look down as they moved away with their master.

“Too soon,” Hermione whispered, fretting.

“She’s thirteen and thought she could skip years,” Severus said. “Everyone knew she wasn’t ready.”

Hermione flinched. “But— they let her—”

“All the masters let us take the tests early if we choose, but we know it’s because they want us to realise how important they are.”

Hermione fidgeted.

His wing rubbed against hers, giving her a tingling sensation that broke through her fretting.

Amelia Bones was making her way down the line, bestowing pins or bad news as the case warranted. Yet, even when the apprentices went back to their masters in some cases, Hermione saw the softened compassion of each master who shared their lives so intimately. They were like parents— only so much more. For however many years it took, they both taught, guided, broke up fights, held them when they cried, held them when they were happy, admonished them when they were in need of it—

Hermione knew she wasn’t the only one who saw their masters as their family in all but blood, and that would not change even after mastery had been attained. Still— she trembled, thinking herself a failure, that she had messed up on every single test.

“Severus,” Amelia said, looking at him.

Severus bowed his head.

“It seems you have obliterated the competition,” she said sombrely. “Good thing you’re on our side, hrm?”

A tug of a smug smile ghosted across Severus’ face. “Indeed it is, Madam Bones.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she said with her own smile, pinning his collar. “With this pin, you are released to find your own path and your own place, may it be here with the family you have created out outside with that which you have yet to experience. Congratulations, Master Snape.”  She pinned the gold and silver seal on his collar, and the rush of releasing magic caused him to inhale sharply, gently dissolving the bond between masters and apprentice.

Hermione could feel his almost-panic as the bond dissolved— it had been there since they were nine, and she couldn’t help but wonder how scared and alone he would feel with its loss. She rubbed her wing against his back, and he looked at her with painful relief as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

Not all apprentices bonded so tightly with their masters, but they—

They had been desperate for safety, needing someone to trust when their families could not.

Hermione beamed at Severus. She was so proud of him, even as her heart almost stopped when Amelia turned to her, her face so stern and concerned.

“Apprentice Evans,” she said, the tone of officiality dripping.

Hermione’s heart beat like crazy, her emotions taking a dive into the Abyss.

_I failed. I failed. I failed. I failed. Failed. Failed. Failed. Failed!_

“It is with a weary heart that I must inform you, Apprentice Evans,” Amelia said, her face like the stone of a statue, “that you will be free of the insufferable Masters Shacklebolt and Morgan seeing as you obtained the highest marks on ALL of your exams and practicums.” She pinned the mastery pin to her collar with a wink. “Congratulations, Master Evans.”

Hermione fainted dead away as all the blood in her body went straight to her toes.

Snape looked down, his wing having caught her on the way down and sighed. “You’re _such_ an insufferable drama queen, Hermione.”

“That would be Master Healer Insufferable Drama Queen, Master Snape,” Manfred said with a feral smile.

“That’s too long to say,” Kingsley complained.

“Well, I suppose this is where we give them the key to their new quarters, hrm?” Manfred said with a wink.

Severus startled, dropping Hermione.

Master Morgan caught her, grinning with all fangs. “You think you’d live with Kings and I forever, hrm?”

Kingsley laughed. “That’s quite enough shock for one evening, Manfred.”

Morgan pouted. “You’re a total joy killer, Kings.”

“That’s Sodding Kings to you, mate.”

“Absosoddinglutely,” Morgan replied, all fang.

* * *

 

Hermione spent the next evening cuddled under her pile of wings, relapsing into cuddle mode under Morgan’s dragon-bat wings and Kingsley’s electrically-charged Thunderbird feathers. She pulled Severus in too, and the original masters chuckled that no matter where they were supposed to live, they ended up together anyway.

Severus, however, wasn’t complaining, as he felt the pain of losing the tight bond they had shared since they were nine as well, even though he didn’t say so.  Manfred, however, seemed to understand, and tolerated their clinginess with both amusement and acceptance.

It took about a week to function independently again, and by then the seemingly huge and gaping wound was knitting together. Amelia  teased them that they were having empty nest syndrome, and Morgan and Shacklebolt grumbled at her to mind her own business or they would happily share the tale of _her_ first apprentice, the one that refused to leave her side for five _years_ after they obtained mastery. Amelia didn’t pester them any more after that, but she did grin at them unnervingly like a Cheshire Cat.

By the time they finally bound Kingsley, James, and Alastor in the very special containment rooms, the irony came in full force when Hermione was the master healer who oversaw the mental dive into their heads and Severus was the Legilimens who did the actual brain fishing.

When Severus finally hit pay dirt about an hour in, it suddenly became clear as to _why_ they had bound them and their magic, as they struggled against the bindings and spat out chains of curses, which had they had a wand in their hand would have been terrifying. Thankfully neither of them were using silent or wandless magic, and that was no small relief, but Manfred used his mind-magic to shut down the pertinent area of their brains, just in case.

Severus focused on filtering the memories into a Pensieve for the specialists to sort through. Deciphering the memories was not his job, and he was quite glad of that. Hermione’s warm wing touched his as he worked, joining their magic to both stabilise his focus and keep him grounded during the flood of random memories— everything from childhood birthdays to embarrassing encounters.

Hermione was monitoring the vitals of each of the wizards, keeping them stable as he worked, preventing each person from being overwhelmed by the flood of their own memories flying by at breakneck speeds, and when they started to convulse and writhe, she took a page from Master Morgan’s book and breathed the healing vapour upon them to bring them back into sync with the here and the now.

It was a kind of dance, he realised. Without words, she healed as he fetched. He guarded her as she dove into the minds to heal them even as he did the same to retrieve the memories. How long had they been doing this dance?

Ever since they had first met, perhaps—ever since they had slept in each other’s arms under the forest canopy, sharing warmth, companionship, and trust— they had always been close. Even when their relationship drama had reared up and smacked them both around, their magic had refused to be denied the partnership.

Severus saw a flash of something go back as he siphoned the memory off to the Pensieve—

**_KKkkkkKKKKkkkrrrrrKKK!_ **

James Potter’s body jerked violently and a surge of magic that was not his own blasted outward. His face twisted with rage as he broke the restraints. Hermione went flying backwards with a cry, clutching her head. The other masters were frozen in some sort of electrical field and he—

The pain alone was enough to drive him to his knees.

How had he missed it?

Where had that been hiding?

_Hermione!_

Severus lurched towards her, his wings covering her, protecting her from the deluge of uncontrolled magic. She was struggling to—

Oh.

She was protecting his mind. All of their minds. From—

James Potter’s eyes were filled with anger— absolute _rage_ against something only he could see.

Hermione’s body was in agony, but she had shut herself off from the pain to focus on protecting their minds from whatever had taken James Potter. She had managed to save Alastor and Kingsley— but not James. Not in time to prevent whatever backlash of magic that one memory had triggered.

She was protecting him— giving him strength, giving him time to—

Severus snarled, launching himself physically at James Potter, his right fist connected to his solar plexus as his left hand claws at his face, placing his fingers at the points to make the most potent mental attack.

The hounds of hell bayed around them as they rose up from the very depths of the Abyss. The Gwyllgi snarled, diving into Severus and then through the mental pathway, burning their way through the contact points and into the wizard’s mind.

James screamed as the barriers around his protected mind went up in hellfire as Tiamat rose behind Severus and cradled Hermione’s body, her chaos swirling around her to reinforce her strength— and in so doing reinforcing Severus and the others.

"Od uoy kniht flesruoy a dog?" a low, guttural voice rumbled.

Cthulhu’s tentacles wrapped around James’ head as his eyes glowed an eerie green.  The insanity in James’ eyes faded, and he crumpled to the floor. Cthulhu’s tentacles writhed as his body seethed in wrath.

“I ees uoy, latrom." His body sank into the floor and disappeared.

 

Far away, in Scotland, Albus Dumbledore looked up from his desk to see a figure cloaked in writhing shadows emerge from the very floor. Glowing green eyes locked with his as the Elder God’s face tentacles slithered back and forth with an alien undulation.

"Wolla em ot wohs uoy tahw a eurt dog si. Drawoc ot esu rehtona sa ruoy lessev. Kool nopu eht ecaf fo na Redle Dog dna maercs ruoy pihsrow otnu Noivilbo." Cthulu’s tentacles descended upon Dumbledore’s head as the old wizard screamed, and screamed, and **_screamed_ ** —

 

* * *

 

**SHOCKER: Headmaster Albus Dumbledore Found Incoherent, Babbling and Completely Drained of Magic!**

_The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of  Witchcraft and Wizardry was found by Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall in the early morning on Sunday morning when she had come for a scheduled early morning meeting. He was found on his back, thrashing, while babbling, “Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fthagn! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.”_

_While we are unsure as to what the Headmaster was attempting to communicate, it became clear that something had broken the wizard’s mind in a way that may or may not be treatable._

_When Aurors went through Dumbledore’s personal items to trace what might have happened, trails of a strange greenish slime led them to hidden journals dating back to the time of Grindelwald. The journals detailed a shockingly elaborate plan to become the Master of Death, overrule the Statute of Secrecy, bring back long-deceased loved ones, and set up the Potter family to fall to the Dark Lord in order for their son to be raised an orphan to fulfill a secret prophecy he was arranging to be delivered by none other than Sybill Trelawney, the third-rate supposed Seer from the line of Cassandra Trelawney._

_As to how this tied into Dumbledore’s ultimate goals, Aurors have sealed off any further evidence in preparation for presentation to the Wizengamot and will not be made available to the public until the time the Wizengamot and authorities have time to trace the extent of who was involved in the conspiracy with him._

_While some people insist that Dumbledore is innocent of such accusations and that the Dark Lord had attacked the Headmaster— reporter Rita Skeeter is planning to release her new biography called_ Albus Dumbledore: The Hero That Wasn’t _by the end of the week._

* * *

 

Lily trembled, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as she paced back and forth in front of the observation room as the most terrifying dragon-bat and a hideous “thing” that seemed to be crafted of shadow and tentacles guided the hands of none other than her long-lost little sister over her husband’s healing body.

A tall, slender man draped in black robes stood in front of the window with his arms folded across his chest as fiery hounds stood, sat, and lay all around him. His eyes were a terrifying, fathomless black, and his pale skin, hooked nose, and even blacker wings gave her the impression of a dark fallen angel. He seemed to be looking straight through her— even though the other healer she had talked to had said it was one way glass, just like the Muggles had.

The dragon-bat was breathing some sort of foul-looking mist into her husband’s face, and her sister was placing her hand both on James and the other against the beast’s tentacled face. The tentacles wrapped around her hand and wrist as well as the arm, like the roots of a vine around the trunk of a tree.

Lily paced. She sat. She stood up and paced some more. She continued to walk a trail into the floor as she fretted for her husband, her baby, and herself without James.

So intent was she on staring helplessly at James and fretting over what her sister was doing to him, she didn’t notice little Harry crawling out of his portable crib and crawl-walking into the next room.

Seconds later, Harry was in the hook-nosed man’s arms, a look of absolute glee on his little face as he hugged his neck. The man’s black eyes softened as he whispered something into Harry’s ear, and to Lily’s combined horror and amazement, Harry smiled up at him and settled against his chest, content to cuddle up to him in silence. The man touched the stuffed bat, and it animated, flapping. Harry snuggled into it blissfully, closing his eyes.

Lily’s eyes widened. For just a moment, the man’s black eyes changed colours to a vibrant, glowing green. There was a surge of magic and Hermione let go of James’ face. She staggered back, and the beast caught her, tentacles moving across her face and head with an eerie, disturbing slithering.

The beast picked her up, cradling her as the black-eyed man turned to tend her— still carrying her baby.

Lily began to pound on the one way glass to get his attention.

Harry was awake again, and this time he bonked the beast with his flapping bat, giggling.

The beast extended tentacles to gently ruffle his hair, and Harry rubbed up against one, laughing as another tickled his tummy. Harry reached out to her sister, wrapping his arms around her as she lay in the embrace of the beast, even as the black-clad man and the dragon-bat tended her. Harry wriggled and laughed, patting the dragon-bat on the nose and stroking his muzzle— oblivious to the mouth full of intimidating teeth as much as he seemed utterly unimpressed by the tentacle-beast’s alien supernatural otherworldliness.

Hermione stood, yawning as she ran her wand over  James, nodding her head as she went. Her wing wrapped around the black-clad man, and a black wing unfolded from his back and wrapped around her in return. He stared into her eyes, his jagged, sallow countenance making Lily cringe in almost pity for his looks.

But Hermione—

Merlin.

Hermione looked  up at him, beaming with such love that it made the look James gave her on his best day wither in comparison.

There were the ones that looked after her baby while she was—

It couldn’t be.

No!

They were a bunch of—

Lily winced, a pang of guilt filling her heart.

Hermione leaned down to talk to a healer in green robes. They nodded and scooped up Harry to bring him out. Harry reached out to Hermione and the others, crying. The healer walked out, handing Harry to Lily.

“Master Healer Evans says that your husband is to be transferred to the observation rooms, but you will be able to stay with him there once he arrives. The procedure went well, and the mind healing was successful.”

Lily nodded dumbly.

“You were very lucky that they were willing to take on your husband’s healing, Mrs Potter,” the healer said. “They do not normally accept any cases outside of the Department of Mysteries, and they are probably the very best team you could ever find for comprehensive healing.”

Lily blinked. “Wh— why not?”

The healer smiled, and it was not entirely kind. “Tell me, what was your first reaction to your husband being treated by… a pair of freaks?”

Lily paled.

“You should get some rest, Hermione,” a low voice tutted as the giant dragon-bat squeezed through the door. “Even Master Cthulhu worries for you.”

Hermione, slightly pale, leaned heavily on the black-haired man. “Yes, Master.”

The creature tutted. “Take her home, Severus. Make sure she eats something substantial and sleeps well for the next week. She really shouldn’t have done it all in one go like that.”

Hermione hung her head. “I just couldn’t leave him half-done.”

“You could have and you should have,” the dragon-bat said reprovingly. “Now, give this old dragon-bat a hug and go rest, or I will sic Kings on you, and no one wants the static-charged hair from _that_.”

Hermione smiled tiredly and wrapped her arms around the dragon-bat, pressing her face into his fur. “Thank you for helping, Master Morgan.”

“Manfred. You’ve earned it. You both have.”

Hermione nodded.

The Gwyllgi milled about her, sticking their muzzles into her hands and whining softly.

“See, even _they_ agree you need to rest.”

Hermione smiled. “I promise I will.”

The dragon-bat wing-walked down the hall, pausing only to drain the entire carafe of black coffee that was sitting on the waiting room table. He disappeared down the hall.

When Lily turned to look the other way, Hermione and the black-haired man were staring at her, and she startled.

“Mrs Potter,” Hermione said politely. “Your husband will recover. The magic residue was removed and the brain tissue regenerated. It will take some time for him to adjust and his magic to make new paths through the mind, however.”

“Hermione,” Lily said.

Hermione had slumped into the dark-clad man with the umbral gaze.

Lily flinched, unnerved.

Severus touched her cheek. “You need to rest. You should not have healed him so quickly.”

“Harry will need his parents,” Hermione said. “ _Both_ parents,”  she said with a heavy breath. Hermione’s eyes met his.

“We survived just fine without ours,” Severus said, his eyes like obsidian.

“But we had to, Severus,” she replied. “Our families could not handle us. Harry has a chance to grow up where magic is normal with parents that see him as gifted and not freaks. How can I deny him that gift knowing what it is to lose that innocence?”

Severus’ eyes shifted over to Lily. Flickering flames seemed to burn in his pupils as electric green sparked across his irises.  Lily shrank back with instinctive antipathy, trying to hide her revulsion at the man’s sallow skin and less than perfect teeth.

“Thank you for looking out for me, Severus,”  Hermione said, bouncing up on her toes to place a kiss on his nose.

He looked down at her with a softening of his face. “Always.”

Tiamat rose up behind Hermione and placed her head on hers with a grunt, growling a clicking some random admonishment as her chaos whirled around her.

Hermione chuckled, reaching up to pat the beast’s head and rub against her lips and teeth with one hand. “Yes, yes, I promise I’m heading back to sleep.”

“Her-mum-knee!” Harry said, wriggling in Lily’s arms.

Hermione tucked the little stuffed bat next to him as she kissed his forehead. “You take care, pet,” she said with a tired smile.

A harried-looking young wizard in lime green healing robes ran down the hall. “Master Healer Evans, we need you upstairs to help stabilise a pat—”

Cthulhu walked out of the healing room nursing a cauldron of something glowing and foaming. He took a long drink and then one “hand” wrapped around the healer’s neck. "Dnif enoemos esle ot retsep, latrom plehw."

The healer’s eyes bulged as he rubbed his neck as Cthulhu dropped him back on the floor.

“Or, I could go find another healer—” the man gasped, running further down the hall.

The Elder God walked over, towering over them all. His face tentacles engulfed Hermione’s head, and when they left, she was asleep. Severus caught her as she slumped, and he pulled her against himself. “Thank you, Master Cthulhu.”

Cthulhu nodded. “Og. Peels. Htob fo uoy.” He turned his regard to Harry as one tentacle extended to keep his bat from escaping, tucking it in with the baby boy as he snuggled with his mum.  Harry extended on hand to pat one of the tentacles playfully.

Cthulhu turned his forbidding gaze to Lily. "Ekat erac fo eht yob, ro I lliw ruoved ruoy niarb dna evael uoy tsuj hguone ot rebmemer rorret, latrom." He gave Harry an affectionate tentacle pat and then disappeared into the ground.

Lily’s face was chalk white as she cradled Harry tightly. “What did it say?”

Severus slid his eyes sideways to look at her. “Elder God and Master Cthulhu recommends that you take care of Harry lest he eat your brain and leave you just enough to remember what terror is.”

Lily fell to the floor in a dead faint as Severus deftly caught Harry with one wing.

“Boom!” Harry said happily. “Rhaaaa! Da-russ!”

Severus’ eyebrow arched even as he cradled Harry and Hermione together against his chest and stared at the fallen Lily Potter. “I suppose leaving you in a puddle in the middle of the hallways would be considered poor manners.”

Severus sighed and looked at the Gwyllgi. “Take her to her husband, please.”

The Gwyllgi woofed eagerly, grabbed Lily by her robes, and disappeared in a cloud of black vapour.

Severus closed his eyes, carefully visualising where he wanted to go and allowed the crack of Disapparation carry him away, extra cargo and all.

* * *

 

“Ah, so you’re awake, Mrs Potter,” a man in healing green said. He was wearing a silver serpent circlet with twin snakes entwined around each other. “You picked a rather unconventional way to share a room with your husband, I fear.”

Lily turned to see James sleeping away in the bed next to her. “Harry? Where’s my Harry?”

“He is quite safe with Master Healer Evans and Master Snape,” the healer assured her as he waved a diagnostic wand over her.  

“My baby is with **_monster_ ** summoners?!” Lily blurted.

The healer’s expression hardened. “I mistakenly presumed that since they have already saved your lives and taken care of your child for a number of months during your recent recovery that this was no longer a concern.”

**_“What?”_ **

“When you took the Oath in order to be allowed here while your husband was being treated, Mrs Potter,” the healer explained, “you were warned that some things you would see down here would not be typical fare. You were also warned not to judge what you saw by the typical rules you would expect elsewhere.”

Lily frowned, her face scrunching up. “I want my baby here with **_me_ **.”

“As you wish, Mrs Potter,” the healer said coolly as he sent out his hummingbird Patronus.

 

* * *

 

“Mrs Potter, you will have to leave this area if you cannot settle your infant. There are patients trying to sleep and recover here.”

“This is my husband! I have every **_right_ ** to be here with him!”

“You are allowed to be here to help hasten his recovery, Mrs Potter, not set it back by not permitting him to get the rest that he so desperately needs.”

Harry was turning bright red as his screams grew ever louder, his plush bat having been heedlessly tossed onto the bedside table as he kicked and fussed. Lily tried giving him a pacifier but Harry was having none of it.

Disturbed voices came from the other beds, and agitated, angry footfalls were rapidly approaching them.

“Shh, shh, come **_on_ ** , Harry. Don’t be like this. You want to be here with your daddy, right? Shhhh.”

Harry kept right on screaming blue murder, and her attempt to  put a toy into his hand met with that toy being used to smack her upside the head in his frustration before he threw it over the divider.

**_“Harry!”_ ** she gasped, frantically trying to jiggle him up and down and in hopes of calming him down. “Shh. Shh. Come **_on_ ** , Harry, please!”

Harry’s face was starting to turn blue instead of red, his fit having transformed from a manageable temper tantrum to a full-on bout of hysteria.

“Mrs  Evans, we need you to take your child and leave this floor until—”

**_“I’m handling it!”_ ** Lily screeched, her own face going very red with combined frustration and embarrassment.

Lily pulled out her wand, quickly cast a spell, and Harry’s piercing cries were immediately cut off. He squirmed and his little face turned even bluer. His arms and legs pumped wildly, and his entire body jerked more and more desperately.

“Mrs Evans! If you just cast a silencio on your infant, you need to take it off now!” a healer cried, running towards them.

Lily frantically tried to  soothe her baby, unintentionally shaking him against herself harder and tighter in her desperation to stop Harry’s temper tantrum.

Two figures— one dressed in deep healer-green and one in  relentless back were running towards her.

Lily panicked even more, her mind going on holiday in her desperate bid to make her baby finally stop crying.

“Mrs  Evans!”

**_SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMKKKKKKK!_ **

Magic shook the entire floor as Harry’s terrified scream took out the entire wall, breaking through his mother’s hastily-applied spell. Lily went tumbling backwards, knocked arse-over-teakettle as infirmary curtains disintegrated, tables flipped over, and chunks of stone tumbled down from the floor above them.

Harry was suspended in mid-air, a fine set of dragon-bat wings covered in fine emerald scales flapping lazily, which easily kept him held aloft. His head sported two funnel-like ears. He zoomed over to slam into Hermione and Severus as they released the barrier shield they had quickly conjured over the patients in his immediate area.

Harry clung to them both like a living burr, shivering and whimpering, his newfound wings trembling.

“Healer Elkhart!” one of the young apprentices cried, “No!”

The young man cried out in anguish as he shook the elder healer’s body. “No. **_NO!_ ** Nonononono!”

Chunks of rubble had landed on the elder healer’s body, pinning him to the floor in all the confusion and explosion of purely accidental, desperate wish magic from Harry.

Hermione was a blur of motion as she rushed towards the fallen healer’s body even as Severus tackled the rubble to move it off. Their wings touched, and they moved in perfect synchronisation. The moment the stone was removed from the healer’s back, Hermione breathed her healing into him to mend the area so he wouldn’t bleed out. Severus used his magic to levitate and move him to his back, even as she cleaned off the area with a warm rush of magic. She pressed her hand over his face like a spider, and she pressed her head to his mouth to listen carefully.

She pressed her hands together and locked her fingers,  moving over his sternum. “One, two, three, four, five, six… thirty!” She gave him two quick breaths. “One, two three… thirty!” She gave him another two breaths.

Her form was suddenly changing… blurring… jerking.

The dragon-bat muzzle snarled over the healer as her wing thumbs met over his chest as an electric current crackled down her back.

**_KzzzzzzzttttttPPPP!_ **

The healer’s body jerked.

Severus was there,  locking his hands in place as he performed the compressions and the breaths and then he moved away as Hermione’s wing thumbs touched the healer’s sternum.

**_KzzzzztttttpppPPPPP!_ **

The healer’s body jerked again, only this time he drew in a long, deep inhalation as his eyes snapped opened widely.

Hermione’s head  jerked back and then she breathed over the healer, a cloud of blue and green healing magic floating towards the man.

“Master Elkhart!” the younger healer cried, falling on him with tears of relief trailing down his face.

“Ka-boom!” Harry said approvingly, clapping as he clung to Hermione like a backpack, his smaller dragon-bat wings flapping. He cooed and snuggled into Hermione’s warm wings, blissfully oblivious to any and all attempts to pry him off.

Kingsley eyed Manfred as the master rushed in, fashionably late. “You’ve done corrupted _another_ one, Manfred.”

Manfred snuffled Harry, poking his wings and stretching them out to inspect them. Harry squealed happily and snuggled tighter into Hermione’s feathers. “I approve,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Keep it to yourself, bat-man,” Kings muttered.

“Shodding Keeeengs!” Harry cheered.

“Sodding Kings, indeed, young man,” Manfred said as he nosed Harry to move, and the cling-on infant transferred to the adult dragon-bat’s chest, clinging to Manfred like a baby bat.  “Someone care to explain to me _how_ a perfectly healthy infant undergoes an accidental magic transformation while right here in the DoM?” He leaned over to check Hermione’s work, nodding as he added nothing. “Elkhart, my friend, you really need to stop bench pressing walls.”

Elkhart coughed. “But they are so pressable.”

Manfred patted Harry with one wing. “I take it his transformation caused all this?”

Elkhart nodded. “I tried to release the mother’s _Silencio_ on the boy, but I didn’t get there in time. The Paradox caught him, and since he believed he was in mortal danger… well. He could not hear his own cries, and thus believed himself to be in dire peril. Next thing was the explosion of accidental magic and the resultant mutation— and I believe we have all become quite acquainted with his gift.”

The elder healer looked up to the ceiling where frightened people from the office above stared down through the hole. “It wasn’t his fault, you know that.”

Manfred nodded. “Apprentice Cassowary, do you wish to take your much-abused master to a private room and insist upon his rest?”

“Yes, Master Morgan,” the young healer said at once, assisting his master to his feet and guiding him back to his quarters.

Kingsley was waving the people above away so he could safely repair the flooring, rubble, stone, plaster, and metal all moved back into place with a few quick waves of his wand. The healers swarmed to pick up the pieces, rearrange the beds, check their patients, and put things back together.

“Well, at least we can put this little man back with his parents,” Manfred said, rocking Harry in his wing as he settled him down in the bed next to his unconscious mum. He straightened the bedclothes and tucked the plush bat in with Harry.

Harry immediately stuck the bat into his mouth and sucked on the ear, settling.

“There you go, my young lad,” he tutted. “All safe and warm with your mum, yes?”

“Mummy,” Harry said with a yawn, going back to sucking on his bat.

Hermione finished making sure that James Potter remained stable and doing well as she just barely made it to a chair to sit. Her entire body wilted as her arms and legs trembled with exhaustion.

“Hermione,” Severus whispered softly, coming to her side and touching her shoulder.

“I’m fine, just really tired,” she said quietly. Her hands were trembling, and Severus realised with alarm that she was crying.

“What’s—”

Hermione jerked her head, trying to force her tears away. “I should have ignored that Patronus,” she said vehemently. “If I had just waited, Harry wouldn’t have had that tantrum and Lily wouldn’t have—and he wouldn’t have— what have I done?” she sobbed into her hands and groaned in pain.

Severus enfolded her. “You couldn’t have known. We couldn’t have known.”

“She’ll blame _me_. All over again,” Hermione whispered miserably.

“And she will be wrong,” Severus said firmly. “Again.”

“I tried to make it so they could heal together, take some of the stress off— and all I’ve managed to do is make matters even worse.”

“If things are worse, it is not because of you, child,” Manfred said, his voice both sad and warm.

Hermione threw herself into his embrace, snuggling against her old master like she was a child again, desperate for that warmth and protective presence.

“I saw it with my own eyes, Alastor,” a man dressed in dark green said. “She cast a bloody _Silencio_ on her infant, something no mother from a magical family would ever, **_EVER_ ** do. Everyone knows it will suffocate the child due to their undeveloped magic reacting to the spell. They don’t know to stop crying and the spell literally steals their breath!”

“Lily Potter is Muggleborn,” Alastor said slowly.

The healer’s face went slack. _“What?”_

“I’m certain that she had no idea that it could easily kill the child,” Alastor said. “They kinda skipped over the usual expectant witch classes in favour of running for their lives.”

The healer rubbed the area between his eyes with his fingers.  “Alright, so who gets stuck with the job of telling Mrs Potter that she almost killed her own son and caused the boy to undergo a permanent accidental magic-fueled mutation?”

Alastor flinched. The healers all shook their heads, none of them wanting to be the bearer of such news.

* * *

 

Aurelia Hastings sat with her hands folded in her lap as she watched Lily Evans try to crawl to the very edge of her bed and stare at her with frightened eyes. Baby Harry reached for her, holding out his stuffed bat. “Mummy!” he cried, wanting a hug.

But Hastings saw what she had seen so many times before. As with most Wishkin, the parents either became overly protective or so disgusted with the changes that they pushed their child away, believing them to be evidence of some shameful defectiveness in the family magic. It was a rare, rare thing to have a child accepted wholeheartedly into the blood family outside of the DoM— the only place where being mutated was far more accepted and even celebrated.

Even now, Master Healer Evans remained on very fragile ground with her parents and family— and now her elder sister, Lily, was having a nervous breakdown upon hearing that she had inadvertently caused her infant son’s transformation into a Wishkin.

Had the circumstances not been so dire, it would be the talk of jokes that little Harry had bonded a little _too_ close to Masters Evans, Snape, Morgan, and Shacklebolt, but the fact remained that Harry’s magic and the boy himself had believed he was on the verge of suffocating to death, being far too young to understand that the effect was due to his continuing to cry out while under the silencing spell. It didn’t matter that the moment he would have passed out, he would have silenced himself and started to breathe again. It didn’t matter that Lily’s mistake hadn’t been fatal. It had only mattered in that moment what the infant’s young mind believed at the time he had made his desperate “wish” and the condition fooled his body into thinking he was truly in a life-or-death situation.

Aurelia sighed, grieving for Harry even while Harry himself did not yet realise that anything had truly changed. He continued to play and attempt to engage his mum, but the look of absolute horror on her face at the baby boy’s physical mutations was impossible to ignore.

“Hey, little man,” James said tiredly. He looked utterly weary, but the moment Harry flew to him and hugged him, he smiled radiantly. His hand rubbed the boy’s wings and back and he smiled. “Looks like you’re trying to outdo me at every turn, Harry. You’re going to be a great Seeker one day.”

Harry giggled and wing flapped. “Da. Da!”

“You hear that, love?” James crowed happily. He fussed with Harry’s bat ears and laughed when Harry made odd faces at him.

“So, we’ll be able to visit him while he’s apprenticing in the DoM, yeah?” James said, turning to Aurelia.

The witch nodded. “Yes, but due to his mutation and age, he will most likely be asked to live here. You are, of course, welcome to apply for quarters here within the DoM for families, so you can stay close to him.”

“That would be quite acceptable, wouldn’t it, Harry?” James said, tickling him.

Harry giggled and fussed, kicking his legs.

“Let’s do that,” James said with a nod.

Aurelia, always prepared, pulled out the application for housing in the DoM and filled out the main parts. “Please read this over and sign it at the bottom. I’ll send it off to be processed today. It should come back before you’re ready to leave the infirmary.”

James read it over quickly while bouncing Harry on his knee. He pulled out a quill and signed the bottom. “Looks great. Here you go Lily. Just need your signature and we’ll be able to—”

“I’m not signing it.”

James blinked. “Whyever not?”

Lily just shook her head, hugging her knees tightly. “This place brings me nothing but pain.”

“But— this could be a great new start for us all, Lily,” James said. “Safe and—”

“Does **_SAFE_ ** mutate your baby boy into some kind of… **_MONSTER?!_ ** ”

“Lily, it was a simple accident.”

“This place turned my baby boy into a **_THING!”_ **

James scowled. “Lily, for Merlin’s sake, it was your own silencing spell that scared him enough for him to use accidental wish magic.”

Lily’s face drained of blood. “No! I did **_not_ ** turn my perfect little baby boy into a … into a— **_NO!”_ **

Harry started to squirm and cry, picking up on his mother’s distress and  amplifying it by hundreds. Harry’s cries caused Lily to hug her knees even harder, making her dig herself further into the bed and try her best to ignore her crying son.

**_“Lily!”_ ** James cried. He soothed Harry with his bat and snuggled him, cooing. Harry settled a little, but he wrapped his wings around his father and hugged tight to his chest, snuffling softly. “It’s Harry! Our son! He’s right here. He’s _still_ our baby boy!”

Aurelia flinched, trying hard to be neutral. It was the hardest thing about her job. She could pressure. She could not force. Epiphanies had to happen on their own, and she could not influence the parent, save to protect the child from a fatal outcome. This was, despite what she was seeing, was her way of coping.

Pretty lousy coping, but coping nonetheless. Even the greatest parents had moments of despair and overwhelming strain, lack of social support, and were occasionally even guilty of harming a child while trying to protect them. It didn’t make a person terrible for displaying such temporary insanities, just human, and they key to this was was connecting the parents to the child as another human being— even if said human being had a rather stunning pair of dragon-bat wings and adorable funnel ears.

James sat beside his wife and wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her back, and Harry sat between then, playing with his stuffed bat. “Muhmuhmuhmum,” he babbled.

Lily blinked, looking up.

“Muhmmy,” Harry said, waving his bat.

Lily trembled, her hand reaching to touch Harry’s head, and the moment her fingers touched his soft funnel ears, Harry looked up and the connection was made.

Lily clutched Harry to her body and sobbed, petting his head and his back. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!” she cried into his hair.

Aurelia watched James take in a deep breath and let it out slowly as relief washed across his face.

“We’re going to be okay, Lils,” he said. “We are. You, me, and Harry.”

Lily clung to Harry, stroking his back, and Harry looked a little confused but wasn’t complaining.

“I’m pregnant,” Lily whispered into Harry’s hair.

James’ eyes went round as saucers. _“What?”_

“Ka-boom!” Harry said cheerfully, reaching out his hands. “Shodddinggg Keeengs!”

 

* * *

 

“Your sister is a walking, talking Muggle hand grenade with a defective trigger pin,” Severus declared as he downed his morning juice. “Can we go at least one month without having her blessing our news in some idiotic manner that makes bloody Fiendfyre look like a campfire for making s’mores?”

“What in the name of Merlin’s hairy toes is she doing now?”

“In a word?”

“Hn.” Hermione eyed him, lip twitching.

“Pregnancy,” Severus said.

_“What?”_ Hermione’s eyebrow shot up and went into spasms. “Is she trying to be a sodding bunny rabbit?”

“Do bunny rabbits tend to have twins?”

Hermione dropped her tea cup on the saucer and summoned the tin of crème brûlée-flavoured Muggle espresso from the cupboard with one hand. “I need something much stronger than tea. Does James Potter not understand the concept of birth control or is this sort of pureblood thing that I’m not aware of?”

“While I’m sure most pureblood families would adore having many children since they seem to be less apt to having them, I’m starting to think that maybe Mrs Potter is either one of the few people with whom the contraceptive potion does not work or she is buying it on the cheap instead of a reputable potions brewer.”  Severus curled his lip.

“I don’t even. I can’t… well, shite,” Hermione muttered. “Well, it _is_ possible she’s trying to brew it on her own. She hasn’t come to the clinic for any contraceptive potions at all. I’d hear about it since we keep a list of who needs them so we can make sure to brew enough of them every month.”

“Brew her own?” Severus frowned. “Well, it is possible, I suppose. The ingredients, as you know, tend to expire quickly unless they are immediately placed under preservation charms.” he shook his head. “I don’t think it’s her trying to brew her own. Maybe she’s using one of those dunderheaded potions from Witch Weekly. The ones they advertise in that disgusting heart-shaped box on the back page along with the ‘May your love last forever’ rot.”

“You read Witch Weekly?” Hermione asked.

“I have to to make the counter potions they use upstairs in the Ministry clinic.”

“My condolences,” Hermione said, shaking her head. She looked thoughtfully at her morning porridge and, after lacing it with honey and cinnamon, stuffed a spoonful into her mouth.

Severus slammed his coffee mug down, startling her.

“Eh?” she muttered.

“Have your idiots cover your rounds today,” he said. “We haven’t gone off for a good fly in months.”  

“Severus Snape, are you encouraging me to play hooky from work?”

Severus’ wing wrapped around her back and rubbed her just right.

Hermione slumped, her head hitting the table as she let out a moan of pleasure.

Severus smiled, his face tucked against her neck as he kissed a line down from her ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, gaining herself a low growl of desire from him. He fastened to her neck, enjoying the soft mewling noises she made.

Suddenly, Hermione stiffened causing Severus to halt.

“What—”

Hermione looked his straight in the eyes. “Who was that witch who came in with that strange problem with inexplicably high fertility a few years back— back when the free clinic upstairs had to stop giving out doses of contraceptive potion because we thought it was somehow the result of a contaminated batch?”

Severus struggled to focus. “Erm… Kneazly?”

“Westerly?”

They stared at each other.

**_“Weasley!”_ ** they cried together.

Severus summoned their robes from the hooks as they simultaneously threw them on and rushed out the door together, taking wing as they flew off towards the infirmary records centre.

* * *

 

**_Gilderoy Lockhart’s Infamous Contraceptive Potion for the Modern Witch Found Responsible for Over Five Hundred-Plus Pregnancies!_ **

_The dashing wizard author, Gilderoy Lockhart is under fire from over a hundred known families even as he has been brought before the Wizengamot for selling a contraceptive potion in various catalogues around all of Europe._

_The potion, known as “Negravidis” has long been advertised as the ideal contraceptive potion for the modern witch, supposedly  providing long-term protection from pregnancy. Unfortunately, it has instead provided long-term extreme fertility along with a few extra side effects that almost guarantee that those who imbibed it will end up pregnant whenever touched by a member of the opposite sex with whom they share mutual sexual feelings._

_Over five hundred clinical cases have been tracked down by incident thanks to the British Ministry of Magic, and those are only the ones where the victim came in for medical attention regarding their pregnancies._

_The potion, while advertised as a non-formulated alternative potion to the standard contraceptive potion used for centuries, was never endorsed by the European Potions Mastery Board or any board worldwide. It was discovered that Mr Lockhart used his extensive personal connections to “ensure” that the potion was safe and documented, and a trail of amnesiac witches and wizards from various catalogues seems to indicate unlawful Obliviation and various memory charms._

_Even more disturbing, an alarming number of witches, in the light of the discovery of this potion’s true nature, have come forward claiming that they have given birth to Lockhart’s children after taking the potion in order to spend the night with him._

_As of the last Wizengamot meeting, certified Healer-applied paternity charms  and potion detection screens have been ordered for any and all witches who have had children from the time the potion was released to now, even those who believed themselves to be taking the regular potion, as some catalogues seem to have inaccurate records of contraceptive potion purchases. All those found to have tested positive for the potion’s influence will be put on a strict regimen of detox procedures to relieve them of the less-than-savoury compulsive effects and as well as related bouts of memory loss. Unfortunately, the extreme fertility issue is at this time, incurable, and any and all types of birth control are rendered nullified upon sexual arousal— even the more primitive Muggle methods._

_St Mungo’s briefly considered bringing back the chastity belt due to this epidemic of unplanned pregnancies, however due to the unusually powerful nature of the “fertility curse” even the belt is not a feasible option for pregnancy prevention._

_The Wizengamot has seized the contents of all of Mr Lockhart’s vaults and holdings and created a new free childcare facility inside the Ministry for those affected by the potion’s influence. As for the fate of Mr Lockhart himself, the Wizengamot has yet to decide, as during the last session, he was cursed and hexed simultaneously by no less than two hundred witches at once. As a result of this, Lockhart is now suffering from a number of unfortunate transformative physical issues including the development of a bright red arse highly reminiscent of a baboon. In addition, Lockhart now sports scaly dark purple tentacles, a pair of walrus-like tusks, an exceedingly heavy coat of golden fur like that of a Scottish Highland cow, a pair of enormous pointed ears similar to that of a Fennec fox, along with several other bizarre characteristics that are far too grotesque to describe in a family newspaper._

_Any affected witches that wish to apply for a position at the new childcare facility will be given hiring preference due to the severity of the affliction, as special considerations and rules must be maintained at all times to prevent any further unexpected impregnations._

_Any and all witches who suspect they may have been affected by this potion are strongly encouraged to see their family healer for the appropriate scans, screenings, and follow-up care._

* * *

 

Severus slipped in behind Hermione, pressing his face into her lush mane of curls before he sank deep into the bathing pool, shaking his hair before looking for the shampoo. He frowned when it was missing, but Hermione’s hands went to his head and deftly worked the soap into his scalp and hair, massaging it into the roots as he sat in the water.  His eyelids fluttered, a soft groan escaping his lips as her deft fingers found spots on his head that seemed to send shivery jolts of sensation to certain other parts of his body.

She dipped into the water to rinse her own hair, then drew him out of the water to lay him on his stomach on the massage table that Geralt had made them as a graduation present. She grabbed the massage oil from the stand and spread it over his back, using the heels of her hands to drive it in as she loosened his muscles.

He made soft inarticulate sounds, his muscles rippling as she kneaded him like dough, digging into the tight areas and then gently soothing them afterwards. She warmed her hands with a silent spell, working her way down his arms and then his back, stopping each time he seemed to need more attention and working the muscle groups until he started to give off a soft almost-whine of pleasure.

She covered the upper half of him with a warm towel, working down his legs and chuckling as she reached the knots in his calves. She carefully sneaked up on the irritated muscles, digging in deep like a sniper shot, then calming the area with softer, lingering warmth. She smiled as  his head thumped back against the headrest, his arms dangling to his sides as if dead, completely enraptured to her ministrations.

She covered his legs as she took more oil and worked it in to his feet, smiling as he  was both tickling and desiring her touch— in conflict with himself. Hermione slowly, deeply  pressed into his sensitive feet, seeking the tense muscles and releasing the knots as she drew her thumbs across the muscles with pressure and release.

How much time had passed, she wasn’t sure, but she was pretty sure it had been hours. Severus was practically snoring  on the massage bed, and it pleased her that she could relieve his tension.

She grabbed the jar of scented body butter, lifting the lid. It was a mild, cucumber-like scent that pleased her— not too much so that Severus would complain that she’d put “witches’ gunk” on his person. She warmed it with a touch and worked it into his skin, spreading it on lavishly to reward its service and abuse after all the time she  knew he spent working himself to the point of collapse between potion-crafting and research and all the other random things he did on the side. Not that she could say anything considering all the time she spent in the infirmaries tending numerous patients from kids with ouchie knees to adults with compound fractures and severe head trauma.

She realised lately, especially due to their incredibly manic schedule, that she loved his small, loving gestures all the more— from making breakfast when he got up before her, always taking time to groom her wings and hair, even going to Muggle stores with her when she had that craving for Greek yogurt or wasabi peas that would simply not go away.

She knew that she loved him— really, she always had. It had started out so innocently as one young child depending on another. He had always been there, her protector and her partner— her friend most of all. Even when her emotions had tried to sabotage everything, turn her away from the quiet but no less significant boy who had loved her from the very beginning, he had struggled to stay at her side and prove he was so much more than his mistakes. But more importantly, he struggled to prove to her that she was  more than her own.

They were not perfect.

They would never _be_ perfect.

But they were perfect for each other, on a journey together through an imperfect life.

“Severus,” she whispered, reaching into the jar and pulling out more cream to soothe onto his back.

She hesitated as her hand touched something hard and distinctly not creamy. She looked down and picked it up, cleaning the body butter off—

A lovely platinum ring, shaped like a feather— crowned with a tiny dragon-bat hugging a sparkling blue diamond

“Marry me,” Severus whispered, staring up at the ceiling. His wings surrounded her, pulling her on top of him, close to his chest— somehow, without her realising it, he had turned on his back and ensnared her.

“But— you were sleeping!” Hermione squeaked.

A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he tenderly touched her face. “Marry me. Be my mate, my wife, my only one— share with me a lifetime and beyond.”  His black eyes eyes begged for an answer, emotion flickering across them as he stared into her face.

Hermione pressed her lips to his, her eyes shimmering with moisture. “Yes,” she whispered into his soft breaths. “I fear you are stuck with me, as waiting around for another winged wizard with black hair and pale skin, the perfected crooked nose, and biting wit is just too rare a commodity to ever be found twice.”

Severus snorted.

“Besides, I adore how just much you terrify my sister without even saying a word,” Hermione said mischievously.

“That’s a glorious reason to want to marry  someone,” Severus quipped.

Hermione placed a kiss on his nose as she snuggled into him. “One of so very many reasons, Severus.”

Severus’ brows knit together.

“What?”

“As happy as I am that you came to your senses and agreed to marry me, love, I cannot help but think that if this massage table turns into an octopus and drags us into the hot springs, I will be charging starkers into Geralt’s quarters to string him up by his ankles from the highest place in all of the DoM and let Master Cthulhu use him for a piñata.”

Hermione chuckled and wrapped her wings around him with a happy sigh. “No worries about that, my love.”

“Hn,” he replied, not completely convinced.

“Besides, I dispelled the table the moment he left,” she said with chuckle.

Severus’ lips curved up into a smile. “That’s my Hermione.”

* * *

 

When Vernon and Petunia were dragged to what they believed was going to be an insufferably banal wedding reception (the freakish heathens didn’t even bother to hold the wedding ceremony in a proper church like _normal_ people) they expected to witness something on the order of a drunken backyard brawl.

Vernon Dursley hadn’t wanted to go, but his wife Petunia said that if they didn’t come, her parents were going to disown her— so they had to attend lest they lose her share of the inheritance.

At least they had a corral for the children to keep them out of trouble while the adults could relax. As it should be, Vernon thought, sniffing in irritation. Petunia, however, had insisted on bringing Dudley out of preferred confinement and forcing him to be seen around a bunch of… freaks.

“Hello, Petunia,” a black-haired man said, sitting nearby. “I see you brought Dudley. How are you, little man?”

“Kaboom!” Dudley said, flinging his arms out wide.

The man smiled wickedly. “I see you’ve already made friends with my son.”

“My Dudley does not make friends with _your_ kind,” Vernon snapped, his face turning a rather unhealthy shade of puce.

“My kind, eh?” the man said with a chuckle. “Well, I do hope you enjoyed that lobster and filet, courtesy of _my_ kind.”

A child with raven black hair ran up to Dudley, and the two toddlers ran off together.

**_“Fuh-why!_ ** ” Dudley cried excitedly, thrusting his arms out and flapping them like a bird.

“You should have left him in the pen with the others,” Vernon bit out.

Petunia shot him a dark look, squaring her jaw. “He’s our child, not a ruddy piece of livestock.”

Vernon sniffed, refusing to grace her with a reply.

People were clinking glasses, and everyone looked up to see a tall man dressed in ceaseless black standing next to a small, slender female with bushy honey-red hair. She had the Evans family’s distinctive green eyes— but the look she gave the man—

It made Vernon seethe with jealousy without even realising what it _was_.

The man— he was quite tall, but his skin was eerily pale, like some movie  vampire. His sharp cheekbones were harsh against his face, making him seem terribly angular. His long, black hair hung like curtains against his face, even as part of of his hair was pulled back into a side braid.

_So girly,_ Vernon sneered to himself. _Pity he doesn’t look the part anywhere else. What an ugly fucker._ Was that girl marrying him for money? It had to be the only reason.

Yet—

As the ugly man brought the woman’s delicate hand to his lips, there was something dark that moved through the man’s umbral gaze that spoke of incredible power and promises of so much more. Vernon knew, in that very moment, that whatever this ugly, twisted man would say, it _would_ be done.

“My friends, my family,” Severus said, his deep voice so soft and yet it carried so easily.  “Blood means nothing to us, for those of you that have been with the two of us ever since we were nine and pranking Amelia’s office—”

There were many chuckles that rang out around the room.

“And to those of you who have yet to meet the complexities of life with us,” Severus continued, “welcome, to the beginning of our lives together.”

**_Barroo!_ **

**_Roo!_ **

**_Arou!_ **

The Gwyllgi sounded off in joyous approval as they wagged their tails wildly. The children were flopping all over them, tugging on their ears, and climbing on their backs, but they tolerated the children’s rough attentions with aplomb.

Petunia dropped her fork to the floor, her horrified eyes like saucers as she saw her own Dudley sitting astride one of the demon hellhounds.

**_“Baroo!”_ ** Harry cried.

**_“Arrouu!”_ ** Dudley agreed. They clapped their little hands together.

Severus eyed the happy children with clear fondness as he straightened his shoulders. “We couldn’t have gotten here without your support, and it is families like this one that are our everything. Sometimes we must find them on our own. Sometimes we are born into them. But regardless of how we got here, you have all helped to make us strong. Overcoming hardship always makes us stronger, but it is love that makes us invincible.”

“I thank you for being with us throughout our journey together,” Severus said. “Witnessing our union, our growth, our sorrows, our drama, and ultimately, this celebration of our love.”

He took Hermione’s hands in his. “And I feel like I should apologise in advance for the infestation of thundering dragon-batlings that will undoubtedly be the cause of much mischief in the future, if our childhood was any indicator.”

The gathered crowd laughed in response as they clinked their silverware, and the newlywed couple kissed. A flare of magic blew outward as a burst of warm wind, ruffling the tablecloths. As it did, a pair of great black wings unfolded from behind Severus and enfolded his new wife. He looked up from the kiss, his smile predatory. “Please enjoy the wonderful dinner that has been so graciously provided by Mr and Mrs Potter— and the little demon-child we all known and love.”

**_“Ka-BOOM!”_ ** Harry cheered. **_“Shodding KEEENGS!”_ **

The crowd roared with laughter, some of them in tears as well. Kingsley crossed his arms in front of him, shaking his head solemnly. Amelia thumped him soundly on the back, laughing.

“Do **_I_ ** get to hug the bride?” Manfred asked as he wing-walked in. “Apologies. There was a bit of a crisis in the infirmary. Someone decided it was a fine time to blow themselves up.”

The dragon-bat grinned, all fang.

Hermione rushed up to Manfred, flinging herself into his wings, and the old master snuffled her,  wrapping her in the folds of his warmth. “Thank you for coming, Master,” she gushed, giving him a kiss on the muzzle.

“Bah, it’s Manfred now. That master stuff ended when you set the testing centre on _fire_.”

**_“LITERALLY!”_ ** someone yelled from the back.

Hermione blushed as Manfred chuckled.

“What’s a little Fiendfyre between friends, hrm?” Manfred quipped. “I think someone else wishes to give you his congratulations.” The dragon-bat gestured his chin over his shoulder.

Cthulhu walked out of the shadows, all of his tentacles adorned with tux-ties. He scratched his head with his tentacle arms, his sulfurous eyes glowing orange. "Snoitalutargnoc no ruoy noinu, gnuoy retsam," he said. "I hsiw uoy htob gnol efil dna eht gninnuc ot dneb ti ot ruoy lliw."

Hermione beamed as she threw her arms around his “waist” and the Elder God lowered his great head to engulf her, tentacles slithering like a caress over her body. “You say the sweetest things,” Hermione sobbed, crying.

Severus snorted. “My wife, the emotional faucet who weeps on Elder Gods.”

Hermione threw a napkin at him, causing the entire room to laugh.

**_Krrrrkkkkkk-THUD. thud._ **

Everyone turned to see Vernon Dursley flat on his back on the floor, wide eyes glazed over and rather wet in the trousers.

"Od I esigolopa rof taht?" Cthulhu asked rather quizzically.

Severus and James traded a look and said it together. “No.”

“Here, here,” Lily agreed with feeling, lifting Harry up to bounce on Cthulhu’s “knee”.

Petunia started to scream hysterically as she shot across the room, chasing after Dudley. Dudley, startled, clung on to the Gwyllgi and the demon hound promptly tore off in a random direction. Petunia, having gone completely unglued, screeched after Dudley, knocking over tables, chairs, and people in her desire to get to him as quickly as possible, and poor little Dudley looked absolutely terrified of his shrieking mother.

Dudley seemed to realise that safety was not in the direction he was going, and he bee-lined back to the main table and dove straight into Cthulu’s mass of tentacle-legs.

Petunia Dursley screeched to an abrupt halt, looked up, and then passed out cold on the floor after babbling, _“Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!”_

Dudley poked his face out of the mass of leg tentacles. “Mummy fall down go boom?”

**_“Kaboom!”_ ** Harry agreed.

Dudley walked out, sporting a vaguely familiar set of dragon-bat wings and a fine pair of tentacles on his head.

Everyone turned to look at Cthulhu.

"Tahw? Nod't kool ta em. Eh did ti ot flesmih." Cthulhu shrugged.

“Really, Manfred? _Another_ sodding dragon-batling?” Kingsley blurted out.

“Jealous, Kings?” Manfred smirked as Harry and Dudley flapped their wings together, taking off to steal fresh fruit off the nearby Asian pear tree.

**_“Shodding KEEENGS!”_ ** Harry and Dudley crowed together.

Shacklebolt facepalmed, rubbing the space between his eyes with two fingers.

James looked down at the glassy-eyed Vernon Dursley. “That’s our boys, eh, Vernon?”

Vernon’s face turned bright red then shifted into purple as he screamed obscenities at the top of his lungs, but they all came out backwards.

“I told you that man was no good,” Mrs Evans sniffed, crossing her arms in frank disapproval.

“I didn’t disagree with you, Rose,” her husband sighed.

“Marriage, recruitment, this turned out to be an absolutely _fantastic_ day,” Amelia enthused.

“Count on you to make it all seem like a perfectly normal day at the DoM, Amelia,” Manfred snarked.

Dudley and Harry squealed happily as they darted around Cthulhu, playing hide and seek under his tentacles.

The Elder God calmly drank his punch, utterly unconcerned by their antics.

Tiamat yawned, walked over to Vernon Dursley, clamped her great jaws firmly around his head, then dragged him out the door and away, her cloud of chaos whipping around her with her annoyance at having her punch drinking session interrupted by heedlessly profane interlopers.

“Where is she taking him?” Kingsley asked.

“Muggle hospital,” Severus said.

The Gwyllgi woofed, descending upon Petunia en masse, dragging her out and away, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

“And her?”

“Psychiatric ward,” Hermione said, deadpan.

Kingsley hugged the both,  pulling them together with a grin. “I **_love_ ** the DoM.”

Hermione and Severus returned the hug with distinctly amused expressions.

“If this is the wedding, what does the anniversary look like?” Geralt jeered from underneath the pear tree.

“Ragnarök,” Kingsley said, deadpan.

“Joykiller,” Manfred said with a sniff.

**_“Shodding KEEENGS!”_ ** Harry and Dudley cried, clapping their hands, having _some_ how ended up covered in wedding cake.

“Looks like you lot are getting batch number two,” Amelia said with a wicked grin.

**_“What?”_ ** Kings blurted.

She clapped them on the back together. “Well, I _know_ Manfred is in. He’s a sucker for bat-kids. You, however, need a little push in the right direction, so please allow me to do so.”  She shoved a piece of cake in his face.

“I never really understood that tradition,” Hermione said, scratching her head.

“It does seem far more amusing when someone else does it,” Severus observed as Kingsley spluttered.

Kingsley chased after Amelia with a handful of cake.

Severus and Hermione embraced each other and laughed. “Best wedding _ever_.”

* * *

 

**_End of Chapter 4_ **

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you enjoyed chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

**A/N:** I'm quite sure I'm not alive at this point

**Beta Love:** The Perpetually-Sleepy Dragon and the Rose, the Abused-and-Tired-Dutchgirl01, and the Dominator-of-Assassin's-Creed-Commander Shepard, and one Hollowg1rl who lost her way out of Feudal Japan and ended up in Britain (whut?)

* * *

**Spiders:** _No money being made disclaimer here!_

**Learning to Fly**

Chapter 5

_Let us put our minds together and see what life we can make_

_for our children._

Sitting Bull

Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley didn't really remember much about how they had first come to the DoM, only that they lived there and had lived there for quite some time. Harry did wonder why his parents couldn't seem to stop making him brothers and sisters. The twins, Joey and Daisy. had arrived not long after him, then Riley, Cicely, Henry, and Ivy.

With Ivy, it seemed the baby train finally came to a stop.

His parents really didn't have much time for him with all of his younger ones they had to deal with, but it was okay because he had Dudley and Master Morgan and Master Shacklebolt. It was enough—especially when Master Cthulhu allowed for tea and cake on Sundays along with lessons in philosophy and baking. The Elder God made stellar pasties and cakes, and both Harry and Dudley were determined to master them and—taste test the products of hard work.

Molly Weasley came to visit the family often, his mum specifically. She seemed to have her own large brood, almost as if she and his mum were trying to outdo each other with how many children they both wanted. Dudley and Harry began to think that children happened after you specifically didn't touch your wife or husband for upwards of a week to a month and then some random touch would trigger them to disappear for a day or more and have a new brother or sister growing in mum's stomach.

When he asked about it, his mum would turn bright red and tell him to go do his homework and go pester Master Morgan or Master Shacklebolt for a change.

Auntie Hermione and Uncle Severus, however, were the people to go to for real answers. Even the embarrassing answers. Answers that made his mum blush even harder and demand that Hermione and Severus stop… what was it? Oh, right. "Corrupting my pure children."

Whatever _that_ meant.

So, Harry and Dudley learned that children did not form after long periods of not touching, that babies did not form in the stomach after eating food, and they did not get shite out like you did on the toilet. There were no storks involved, and if anything, his parents were entirely to blame for the last few brothers and sisters he had due to something called "lack of self control."

Dudley said that had to do with not eating too much at dinner.

Maybe… it made sense.

Harry's mum liked to become very loud and screech a bit, resembling a cherry-red screech owl—none so much when she caught Harry enjoying a "brain massage" from Master Cthulhu. It felt good. He tried to tell her to give it a try, but she just burst into tears saying her son was going to be a brainless zombie.

That didn't seem right.

Auntie Hermione and Uncle Severus had brain massages all the time, and they were both just fine.

Uncle Severus said it was because Harry's mum grew up with certain expectations—kind of like how he had to finish his homework before being able to go out and play with the other kids. She expected Harry to act a certain way, like his other brothers and sisters.

Why would she want him to cry and poop his pants again?

He'd have to think on that one some more too.

Dudley and Harry moved in with Master Shacklebolt and Master Morgan when they were seven. Dudley thought he heard Harry's dad say that they couldn't very well have the new baby sleeping in the living room, so it was time Dudley and Harry took on their formal apprenticeship.

They were already apprentices, so it really didn't make any sense to Harry or Dudley.

Back to Auntie Hermione and Uncle Severus, who explained that their parents had major self-control problems (again with the inability to not eat dessert before supper) and that they couldn't expand their living quarters without being compelled to fill it. Auntie Hermione said the typical age for formal apprenticeship started around eight, so they weren't all that far away.

Dudley and Harry wondered if normal families hoarded brothers and sisters like collectable toys.

Moving in with the masters wasn't so bad, they decided. They got to share a room with each other and not have their baby sisters and brothers coming in and stealing their stuff. No one pulled on their ears and cranked their wings back trying to climb over them anymore. It was a relief.

Occasionally, Masters Morgan and Shacklebolt would let them go out flying with Auntie Hermione and Uncle Severus, learning how to fly "without slamming into trees like an imbecile" as Severus put it. Hermione called it, erm, what was the word? Finguess? Furkess? Finesse?

Whatever it was, it was always fun to spend time with them. They seemed to understand the two of them so well—like how they just wanted to cuddle under their wings and be close. The masters seemed to understand that sort of thing, even if mum took it to extremes and tried to cuddle him _too_ tightly and dad said they were getting too old for cuddles.

Parents were seriously confusing.

They obviously cuddled each other.

"Does cuddling create children?" Dudley asked Severus.

One finely chiseled eyebrow arched sharply into his hair. "Not specifically, no."

"Oh." Dudley scratched his head.

"So, what _does_ create babies?" Harry blurted. Whatever it was, it had to be really easy. He had so many brothers and sisters. What if he turned on the faucet and a baby came out?

Severus scowled, and Harry realised he'd asked one of "those" questions that involved writing lines and feeling really stupid for hours. Hrm, maybe he could find another way to ask it later.

"Babies come from the womb after a mummy and daddy come together with love in their hearts," Hedwig said, dropping her book on the picnic blanket. She yawned owlishly, her black barred, white wings fanned and stretched before she grabbed a Fuji apple from the picnic hamper and bit into it with relish.

"Obviously," Salvius said, his lips puckered as he itched his wings with his foot in a dramatic show of dexterity.

Hedwig and Salvius always made Harry feel more than a little bit stupid. It was like they knew things adults knew but didn't realise it. He even had to ask them what certain words meant. Like womb. What the heck _was_ that? Was it a wound? Did they injure each other's hearts and that somehow created a baby? How did it move from the heart into the belly? It was all so confusing.

Obviously there were some things he needed to do a little thinking on before he could get it.

Hedwig pounced her mum and clung to her back, using her wings to stroke her mum's wings in affection. Hermione looked up at her female spawn and smiled lovingly, passing her a piece of watermelon. Hedwig squealed with delight and sat on her mum's shoulders as she ate the watermelon. Salvius, also interested, slowly crept closer to his mum. Less apt to pounce and make a scene, he slowly moved under his mum's wings and rubbed up against her, wrapping one of his wings around her back.

Hermione smiled at him, passing him some of the treasured fruit, and he snuggled into her, enjoying his tasty prize.

A shadow passed over the sun, and Harry's eyes widened.

Oh.

Severus' wing stretched out and curled around Hermione, Hedwig, and Salvius. Dudley sat next to them, munching on his cheese and pickle sandwich.

Harry, unable to resist, snuggled up next to Severus' warm wing too, stretching out his wing to gently stroke the elder's feathers.

He wasn't sure what "normal" was, but he was happy.

* * *

The first view of Hogwarts was a bit breathtaking—the spires standing tall out on the horizon with the lake sparkling beneath them. They flew in, taking the time to drag their hands in the cool water as they dipped low before the thermals carried them up again. Hermione twirled as she flew up, enjoying the feel of the wind through her feathers. It had been a long time since they had been able to truly fly together, just as they once had as children and even longer since they had had time to themselves between children and duties.

As they landed by what they guessed was the entrance gate, a huge, hairy man stood facing in the other direction, seemingly waiting for them. A large keyring dangled from his sausage-like fingers.

"Woof." The boarhound beside the man barked.

The bushy bearded man startled, turning around. HIs beard looked like it was trying to devour his face, and Severus wondered if something was living inside it. Even Hermione's wild hair, back in the day, hadn't harboured small animals—

Hermione gave a startled eep as the man thrust his hand out to shake it, and she doubled backwards, slamming her shields down to avoid touching his mind along with his handshake.

The man didn't seem to even notice, enthusiastically pumping her hand in greeting.

"Well, hallo there! I'm Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid," he bellowed.

Severus stiffened, his wings twitching as he wrapped one protectively around his mate with a scowl.

"You must be Severus. Your mum talks about you often. Said you'd be comin'."

Severus relaxed a little at the mention of his mother. She'd written on a number of occasions, saying she was trying to get her life back on track after his father's final betrayal, but she had also begged him not to think too much on it. She'd needed the isolation to keep from remembering Tobias and then wanting to return "home". Whatever the nature of the compulsion was, it had been incredibly strong, even well after Tobias had become quite permanently indisposed.

Had Severus not had Hermione and their masters back in the day, he would have surely not been able to let such a thing go, but he realised his mother had recognised Severus as being far healthier living with Hermione and their masters in the DoM than he would ever have been "back home" with either a drunken, abusive father or a broken mother.

'If you love them, let them go' as the saying went. Perhaps, he thought, there was some truth to it.

Hermione tucked herself into his side, wrapping one wing around his back for comfort. New places always made her nervous, and he was always her protector. As a healer, she was easily distracted by the Weave—what she called life. Pain, suffering, and an insistent need to do something about it was never far from her mind, and it took intense shielding—exhaustive even—to separate herself off from it in order to function like a "normal" person. Even when directly shielding to avoid picking up pieces of another's life, she could accidentally glean due to her touch, which cut her off from the the more natural flow of magic. Times like that went about as well as the few times she had cut herself off from him—it had _not_ been a pleasant experience.

Their bond had always been there—the comfort of feeling each other's presence had been the key to their early survival and their subsequent growth as partners. They shared the bond with the Gwyllgi, with Tiamat, and—even more oddly—Cthulhu. Even though their relationship with Cthulhu wasn't quite the same, there was no doubt the Elder God was a rather comforting presence in their life.

That irony was… simultaneously both frightening and amusing.

"Hey don't forget about us!" a spider reminded him, bouncing up and down excitedly from his shoulder.

Severus snorted, reaching one hand up to rub the spider's abdomen.

The rune spider purred—such an odd sound to come from a spider when it seemed far more feline than arachnid—and looked around, checking out the new place. Usually, they made themselves busy at home, taking care of the residence. Happily enough, they enjoyed housekeeping, were even happier to rid the DoM of any insects that might have snuck in. Of course, they enjoyed gardening too, and child-sitting, which was even stranger but very welcome to the growing DoM families.

Lily, of course, was terrified of spiders in general, and rune spiders were no exception at all. Harry absolutely loved them, and they loved him back—but that surprised no one, considering he was often babysat by Master Cthulhu. That Lily was okay with Cthulhu babysitting her son and yet was still terrified of rune spiders was one of those chuckle-worthy oddities passed around the DoM.

" _This place is huge_ ," the rune spider said, looking around with interest. "I'd be making webs for days."

Severus chuckled as Hermione gave the spider a tickle under the head, and the spider purred happily.

"This way then," the wall of a man said as he turned to walk up the path towards the school.

Children were gathering, utterly failing any attempt to be stealthy as they blatantly oogled at the visitors. They clustered together in strange colour groups. Red with red, yellow with yellow, blue with blue, and green with green.

Hermione tensed beside him, clearly unnerved by the presence of so many unknown people—all of them potential interlopers into her comfort zone. While Hermione was hardly a recluse, she had every reason to be leery. Healing was hard enough… getting a mind full of random strangers (children and teenagers at that) was probably terrifying.

He rubbed her back with his wing, and she leaned into him, taking it for the comfort it was intended to be. He straightened his back and put the appropriate sneer on his face, his lips twisting into an almost snarl, as he arched his wings just enough to tip the scales towards intimidation, allowing his robes to billow just so. Hermione, he knew, found it comforting—but as the gaggle of children stumbled to back up and out of the way as they passed, he knew the gestures had done the right thing.

They hadn't bothered to hide their wings— but he knew that was not going to happen the moment when Hermione had needed his comfort from this… Hagrid person. Severus suspected the man was part-giant— possibly hill, judging by the smell from his beard. Severus shuddered.

As children they had learned to be very conscientious of their hygiene— anything less made wing care horrid to the extreme. As they grew up, Severus learned to brew potions as well as experiment with hair tonics and soaps that Hermione would like and he would tolerate for her sake— even if it _did_ make him smell like pears the rest of the day. At least she didn't like those sappy, sickly sweet flower scents that made his nose rebel and spite him by running like a ruddy faucet for a whole week afterwards.

Ironically, the same oils and waxes that made his wings happy made his hair look like it had been doused in oil, but Hermione liked it— really, that wasn't anything he cared about. She said it was silken.

Silken… oily. Oh well.

Her hair, on the other hand, defied all science and logic by becoming almost sentient. It smelled absolutely fantastic, however, and he would often find himself pressing his face into it just because, inhaling her enticing scent like he was taking a drag. That also tended to lead to certain _other_ things that were thankfully on the approved list when you were happily married. Yes please. Thank you.

Still, better that these children didn't know that. Even if they had still been children themselves, he knew what cruelty lurked in the hearts of most "normal" of any sect of humans acted like when exposed to the less than ordinary. One look at Master Morgan would prove that.

Hermione's sister, Lily, was a stunning example of how the distinctly different was perceived in certain close-minded heads. Severus was quite well aware of what Lily thought of him. Tall, ugly, decidedly less-than-attractive. He didn't say it, nor did he have to, that he didn't trust Lily in the slightest. He tolerated her for Hermione's sake alone— if anything, for Harry's sake.

It was Harry who had forged peace between Hermione and Lily, and thus himself and Lily— but the past was not just the past for him, nor was it for Hermione. Petunia as well, ranked low on the respect and consideration department as well, but at least Petunia was currently enjoying a long-term timeout with a psych ward somewhere other than in the DoM.

As for Vernon— no one really knew for sure. (Or cared, for that matter.)

When they stopped in front of a gargoyle, Severus was treated to the oaf, er, Rubeus Hagrid, trying to remember some sort of password. He rattled off various types of candies, biscuits, something about gryphon doors (maybe they had a thing with doors shaped like gryphons), and a few other chains of things.

A few of the Gwyllgi popped in and tail wagged at the gargoyle. The gargoyle touched noses with them, and they seemed to get into an avid conversation without vocalising anything. Then, with an audible pop, the gargoyle let them pass.

"Password accepted," it said, going still as stone once more.

Hermione pet the Gwyllgi fondly, having never once thought them anything less than spectacular beings.

The bumbling man was still rattling off biscuit names as they walked past him and upwards.

An older witch sat at an ornate oak desk that looked like it had been carved back in the Dark Ages. The legs of the desk were formed into some sort of creature legs, but exactly what the creature was supposed to _be_ was anyone's guess. The finish was disgustingly polished, probably by elves, and it seemed like the desk was a fixture of the office, having been passed down from headmaster to headmaster throughout the ages.

"Ah, Masters Snape," the elder witch said, standing up. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Did you have any trouble getting here?"

"We were escorted by a— Mr Rubeus Hagrid, I believe?" Hermione said with a nod.

"Ah, Hagrid. Yes. He's our Keeper of the Keys, Gamemaster, and teacher for Care of Magical Creatures," the woman said. "I am Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress after Albus Dumbledore fell under some unfortunate sort of spell. I found him one morning babbling quite incoherently— I couldn't make any sense of it."

"I am Severus," Severus said carefully, paying very close attention to her movements and her facial tics.

"I am Hermione," Hermione said. She sounded more cheerful, but she keep her wing wrapped around his back for reassurance.

Severus felt a smile tug at his lips as she did so— it comforted him.

Minerva smiled, but it was a sad one. "My apologies for our meeting not being entirely social," she said. "Eileen spoke very highly of you, Severus, and I know she was planning to ask you here before her strange affliction."

Severus nodded. "She had sent her apologies on missing our wedding," he said carefully, watching Minerva closely.

"Oh, _that_ dreadful mess," Minerva said, closing her eyes on recalling the incident in question. "We had a rather substantial clean up here at Hogwarts around that time. Earlier that year, we had a strange explosion in the seventh floor corridor. Something called our Come and Go Room, well, came and went, taking out the floors above and below with Fiendfyre. We had everyone working to rebuild it for the students to return. When I told everyone to not make any other plans, I had _no_ idea she was going to miss your wedding. I can only offer you my most sincere apologies for the miscommunication. I fear that since she was new here, she believed any infraction against my wishes would terminate her contract."

Minerva sighed. "I fear I have a bit of a… reputation here."

"Like our Master Morgan, I wonder," Hermione said with considerable amusement.

"Manfred?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, do you—"

"Oh, that old dragon-bat is still stirring the pot, aye? He always was such a rabble rouser. Heart of gold. Unfortunately, we parted ways when I was offered a job here at Hogwarts. No one after ever came close. I blame the wings and that snaggletooth he has on the right side when he's thinking really hard."

"Pick your jaw up off the ground, laddie," Minerva said with a chuckle. "We were all young once."

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances that shared the overwhelming mental image of baby dragon-bats infesting the DoM.

"It's funny— looking back I have no idea _why_ I really left. The job, the career, they had never been a thing for me until that moment in time." Minerva frowned.

"It must have been a really good reason for you to leave the DoM behind," Hermione mused. "It's such a closely knit family."

Minerva shook her head. "And yet I don't know why. It's so very odd that I never even thought about it until—" She stopped.

Severus and Hermione waited patiently for her to finish, and Minerva had an odd, strangely glazed look in her eyes.

Severus' head snapped up and his wing curled around himself and Hermione as a strange, fine mist was emitted from one of the portraits. He snarled, immediately throwing up his combat shields, and Hermione was instantly on high alert— exquisitely attuned to his very soul.

She pulsed her cleansing shields out, moving them out gradually, but he did not hold back at all. He threw his magic into an impenetrable barrier and shoved it out with no bother to wait or withhold. His hand curved into Hermione's and his shielding feathers— some of them charred from the effort to resist the magic— healed themselves.

Their eyes flashed— one green and one black.

" _ **What's going on in here?!"**_ they heard from the portraits. Some of them were yelling, others hastily diving for cover.

The floor turned molten as Tiamat rose from her chaos, lips pulled back from dripping teeth as her wings sliced through the air, both soft and sharp. Her claws extended, seemingly of liquid, but then they were not. She roared, and leapt, diving into one of the portraits.

" _ **AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"**_ cried one of the portraits as a figure ran from one frame into another.

" _ **No! Don't bring that thing over here!"**_

"What the … _**IS THAT THING?!**_ "

The Gwyllgi growled, teeth bared.

_Rend._

_Tear._

_Eradicate._

Severus extended both hands, palms up at his sides, and Hermione laid her down on top of his, palms down. Their eyes glowed.

"Find its source," Severus instructed them, his face set like stone.

"And destroy it," Hermione said, her eyes blazing.

The hellhounds snarled in response and readied themselves to jump into the portraits as well.

" _ **MINERVA!"**_ a voice cried out from another portrait. " _ **Stop this at once!"**_

Minerva, however, was still glassy-eyed and unresponsive— only now she was under the shields created by both Hermione and Severus.

Severus saw the painted figure of a elderly wizard with a long beard— like so many other elderly wizards with beards and narrowed his eyes. "That one," he said. "Is the Origin."

" _ **Minerva!"**_ the painted wizard screamed. " _ **MINERVA!"**_

The Gwyllgi leapt into the portraits, tearing across each and every frame, leaving flaming footprints of paint as they went.

As the Gwyllgi closed in, the painted fugitive found his retreat blocked by the snarling maw of Tiamat. The painted wizard cast some sort of spell— fire taking shape into a beast that swirled.

" _ **No! Albus! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"**_ the other portraits screamed.

The Gwyllgi simply appeared outside the frames again, sinking into the ground and disappearing. Tiamat slashed one of the portraits, and there was a roaring sound as fire consumed the frame only to be drowned in water, only for that water to turn to ice.

Inside the frame, hung one frozen in space elder wizard, painted face twisted in terror.

" _ **My frame! My beautiful frame!"**_ a painted figure wailed from another frame— sharing it with another wizard who was not happy at all about it.

The moment the ice solidified, Minerva shook her head and came out of her trance. "What…?"

She saw the two masters, frozen in combat position, their magic still swirling as a shield around the three of them.

"What is going on?"Minerva cried. She clutched her head in pain. "AH!" She crumpled over, shrieking. She tore at her hair as her ears twisted and jerked into funnels. Her hands twisted, fingers elongating as membrane grew between each digit— stretching, pulling with a tearing sound. Her bones twisted, popped, and reformed as fur and scales sprouted down her back and belly. As her hands fell away from her head, her face pushed out into a snarling, frothy muzzle.

_**SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**_ She screamed.

Her body expanded, far bigger than the design of the room had ever intended to hold. Her wings bashed into the walls of the office, knocking books, globes, and portraits off the side walls.

" _ **SCREEEEEE!"**_ she screamed again, her body twitching, convulsing, continuing to grow and reform as her magic pulsed, warped, and then released, bursting from her like a butterfly from a cocoon.

As objects from the top shelf came clattering down. Hermione and Severus came face to face with a silvery-peach dragon-bat with glistening iridescent scales that flowed down her back and mixed into the membrane of her wings.

Hermione broke the silence. "Wicked."

Severus blinked. "I concur."

The spider on Severus' shoulder bounced up and down. " _Do it again! That was so AWESOME!"_

The newly rediscovered dragon-bat gave a small, wheezy meow sound.

Severus and Hermione crossed their wand arms together and sent a joint Patronus zinging out towards the DoM.

* * *

"I knew you had not abandoned us," Manfred crooned, wrapping his wings around Minerva as she trembled against him.

"How did I forget— how _could_ I forget this?" Minerva cried against him, her wings locking around Manfred much as Hermione often did against Severus.

Manfred pressed his muzzle tenderly against hers. "You left to train with a master of transfiguration— you had hoped to learn a way to retain a human form longer. To teach the children. You'd thought it might help them have more freedom— to choose to leave the DoM if they wanted to. To go to school wherever they wished to."

"Albus," Minerva hissed furiously, the sound coming out somewhere between feline and bat, with a twister of dragon.

"He came to my wedding!" Minerva snarled. "He was the one who introduced me to Elphinstone Urquhart! And— And— _he_ died to a venomous tentacula! All the while I was pining away for someone I thought was just a Muggle farm boy!"

Manfred scratched an ear with his wing thumb. "To be fair, I _had_ been a Muggle farm boy before— well, all this happened."

Minerva looked up at him, and he smiled at her, all fangs.

"Manfred," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Oh love, I did not wait for you this long to not forgive you," he said as his wing gently brushed her cheek. "I knew you wouldn't have abandoned me of your own free will."

Minerva frowned. "You waited for me all this time?"

"Of course I did," he replied lovingly. "Perhaps you do not recall what a grand and glorious prize you are."

Minerva flushed, her fair skin turning a dusky pink under her fur. "How could I not have remembered this— you?"

"Suoidisni cigam," the familiar rumble of deep, slithering speech said. The dark form of Cthulhu rose up from the carpet.

Minerva screeched, terrified, her body exploding with magic crafted by her instinctive terror, like a child whose magic had never known control. She fumbled, as if for a wand, but her wings and twisted wing "thumb" did not quite agree with her decision. She stumbled backwards, a twist of wings and awkward noises— something between the yowl of a cat and the groan of an injured person.

Hermione and Severus quickly stood in front of the Elder God.

"Peace," Hermione said. "He sings in the great deep dark, but he is _not_ our enemy."

Severus flared his wings, glowering, somehow managing to look more intimidating than the slithering darkness behind him.

Minerva, trembling, shook her head violently in denial of this new truth.

"They speak the truth, love," Manfred said. "There are many new truths for you to learn that we have discovered in your absence."

"Spahrep, a tfig si eud, ot evorp eht eulav fo taht hcihw seil dnoyeb sdrow," Cthulhu said, his body shifting as his bulk seemed almost too large for the Headmistress' office.

"Llet em, namuh," he said, his voice a growl. "Mohw od uoy etah?"

Minerva shuddered, holding on to herself with her wings.

"He wishes to know who has placed such hatred in your heart," Hermione explained.

Minerva stared at her, lips trembling over her fangs.

Severus, one eye black as coal as the other glowed emerald green, turned to regard Minerva. A Gwyllgi rubbed its head affectionately against his hand.

"Dertah si doof," Cthulhu said.

"Hatred is food," Severus translated.

"Rof esoht dlo hguone ot rebmemer eht krad taht emac erofeb."

"For those old enough to remember the dark that came before," Hermione said, her voice detached as she translated.

"Erofeb thgil."

"Before light," Severus said.

"Erofeb epoh."

"Before hope," Hermione said.

"Dertah emac htiw evol."

"Hatred came with love," Severus said, his head turning slightly.

"Ereht tonnac eb eno tuohtiw eht rehto."

"There cannot be one without the other."

"Rof ruoy tsetaerg evol—"

"For your greatest love—"

"Ereht tsum eb a etah lauqe ot ti."

"There must be a hate equal to it."

"Evig ti ot em, dna I lliw evig uoy a tfig ni nruter."

"Give it to me, and I will give you a gift in return."

"Ot llif eht eloh erehw ti ecno dellewd," Cthulhu rumbled, extending his tentacles.

Minerva cringed away, intimidated and fearful.

"To fill the hole where it once dwelled," Hermione said as Cthulhu's head tentacles dropped down to caress her head. She closed her eyes, trustingly— perhaps as an example. She wobbled slightly as his darkness surrounded her, twirling around her like curious cats before it and his tentacles withdrew.

Cthulhu used his larger "arm" to gently nudge her towards Severus.

Minerva's eyes widened and she swallowed hard.

"Albus," she whispered. "He stole my memories. Who I was. What I was. My life. My—" She stared at Manfred, her face turned into a snarl of pain. She buried her face into his fur. "That twinkle-eyed bastard. Even now he can hurt me. He stole my time. He stole my youth. He stole me from my love. He stole the children I had yet to have."

The tip of one tentacle lightly touched Minerva's temple and glowed, a cloud of dark particles emerging from her mind, screaming of the injustice— the rage, the spite for the one she had thought she could trust, the one that had ultimately betrayed her the greatest.

Minerva whimpered, wilting, sobbing.

Cthulhu drew them together with his trunklike arms. "Emos evil ot gnol elihw srehto ega oot noos, tub sdog- Ew nac ekat tahw sah neeb nelots dna evig ti kcab eerht dlof dna eht pit eht selacs ot eht ecnalab srehto tegrof."

Severus closed his eyes. "Master Cthulhu says that some people live longer than they should. Others live shorter lives because of them. But He— He can give back what has been taken." His gaze darkened. "For He does not require belief to exist."

Cthulhu rose up as his tentacles surrounded Manfred and Minerva as a dark swirl of lightless Void surrounded them. A scream of an elder man ran out in the vastness of the pocket of eternity as the vision of tentacles sprouting from the ground and twisting around an elderly wizard and a not so elderly wizard, sucking the very essence of life from the fleshy shells that encased it.

In that singular moment, none were more fearsome than He— the slick-skinned being that stood like a man but was so much more.

"Peels," Cthulhu said quietly. He cradled the two dragon-bats in his dark embrace even as the screams of two alternate factions heralded the touch of the Elder God's unique brand of justice.

"Dnet ot ruoy rehtom, dlihc," he said to Hermione and Severus. "I llahs dnet eseht owt." He touched their temples with the tip of his tentacles.

"Yes, Master," they said, bowing respectfully before exiting the room, knowing that if anyone was stupid enough to intrude on the Elder God that nothing they could do would come close to helping or hindering once Cthulhu had made up his mind.

The pair left the Headmistress' office, the Gwyllgi and Tiamat trailing after them.

* * *

Sybill Trelawney whispered her spells over Eileen, determined to send her rival packing. She had not stayed away after the first time when the stupid bint had come to Hogwarts with her supposedly "genuine" Seer gift and Sybill had dealt with her in short order. She'd thought that she'd woven a perfect infatuation with that Muggle, spiking the Muggle with a custom lust and fertility potion while Eileen had been out drinking with Sybill to garner her "advice" on how best to utilise her inborn talents.

Psh.

As if she'd _ever_ share.

She'd spiked the Muggle's drink, knowing that Eileen was attracted to the "tall, dark, and stormy" type and then let nature seal her into a shameful loveless pregnancy and subsequent marriage with a few drops into her drink as well— just enough to make it so by the time she came to, there would be no going back. It was her own damn fault, after all. Fancying Muggles. Feh.

Sybill knew the insufferable girl would be shamed by her family the moment she discovered her pregnancy. Her arranged marriage would be nullified. Her shame would be all over the papers— unless she made herself scarce.

It had been so perfect.

How _dare_ Eileen Prince come back.

And that damned Minerva. She welcomed the bloody bint back with open arms— she and that pompous supposed master in Divination.

_**SHE**_ was the master of Divination!

Well, now that Master Boddington had left, Sybill was free to roam Hogwarts again, and the first thing she did was hit the stupid woman with a stunner and pour a vial from her Knockturn Alley potions stash down her throat. Now, all she had left to do was whisper what she wanted this pitiful pretender to be into her ear and it would be done.

She was always very good at not being noticed… and underestimated. She used to hate how her mother always said she had to work hard to be like her great-grandmother. She had to nurture and cultivate her gift. She had to work hard.

Sybill had felt like she was drowning, back then. Her gift had come as a curse, crippling her with the strength of her vision and making her spew prophecies over breakfast, in the middle of kindergarten, and when she'd been surrounded by pitying Muggles who thought she was having an epileptic seizure.

So when she'd run from them, crying so hard that she didn't watch where she was running, she'd found herself smack in the way of a passing trolley. Some passerby had shoved her away, saving her life at the expense of his own. Her peers had been screaming. Her teachers had been wailing.

And Sybill had just wished she could be free of the stupid "gift" as the darkness had swiftly closed in. She thought, in that moment, maybe she was dying and she'd _finally_ be free of the curse of the Seer. She had never wanted to be like her great-grandmother, grandmother, and even her mother had been.

Stupid child.

But it didn't matter. She was still great. She was still powerful. She just needed to get rid of these no-name posers who thought they had the gift. She had just gotten the great Albus Dumbledore to think she was the real thing and guarantee herself a plum position at the highly touted school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She wasn't going to give it up, and if that old cat tried to throw her out, she'd spike _her_ biscuits and tea too.

Why did Dumbledore have to go bloody lawn tennis on everyone?

Unlike Albus Dumbledore, that irritating feline Animagus wanted, nay, _demanded_ a proven, reproduce-able curriculum. She wanted something that could be taught year after year and be duplicated for all students who took the class, not just the few with "the gift."

Well, what the hell was Divination but the use of the ruddy _**GIFT?!**_

Sybill smiled as her memory charm worked its magic on her hated target. She didn't care one bit what the interloper had for talent. Supposed talent.

The pretentious little faker.

She should have _stayed_ shamed and pregnant with that stupid drunken Muggle.

Sybill smiled wickedly. "That'll teach you to try and take what is rightfully mine," she hissed. "I will be the only Seer here. People will fear and tremble at the sound of my words. And you— you will just think yourself an old, bitter, unloved librarian whose only shred of understanding comes from unfeeling books."

She watched with cruel satisfaction as the witch's face quickly grew older and more wrinkled like a crone's. Her smile was anything but kind. "Yes, yes, all that prettiness turned to wrinkles. No one will ever believe such an ugly thing could be you. Just as they wouldn't believe you if you told them it wasn't your fault you got pregnant by a dirty, drunken Muggle."

A blazingly hot wind blew through the infirmary, and Sybill cried out as she was frozen in place.

She heard nothing.

How could a spell affect her when she heard nothing?!

Dark tendrils of magic seeped up from the flagstones even as rippling purple tendrils rose from the cracks like weeds breaking through the ground to outdo the garden.

Cold, bony fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. Eyes the color of the Abyss stared back at her as the fingers around her neck jerked and twisted as he held her. Fangs filled his— its? —mouth, bulging outwards in an inhuman snarl.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

The voice was deep, rumbling like the very Earth quaking. Green flames filled one eye, baleful like faerie fire. Those eyes left her but for a moment as they stared at the woman lying on the infirmary bed. At first, Sybill thought herself safer. The transformation was complete. Nothing would tie her to the change, but then the crone's face wrinkled more, the change not finished as the witch let out a pained shriek as her body shriveled around her.

There was a witch beside this man-thing— a gloved hand upon his shoulder that caused the twisted, gnarled fingers to loosen just enough so she could breathe.

Saved.

She was _**saved!**_

The woman's bushy hair fluttered as if it was fire, but her face was unmoving until her eyes flicked over to hers.

The man growled, and it was not a human sound. It spoke of damnation and retribution. It—

It was Eileen's whelp— grown into a beast, a terrifying, primordial beast. Yet even as he— it— stared at her, her traitorous body was simultaneously terrified and aroused. Her heart beat thumped inside her chest like a wild thing. She both pissed herself and grew wet for other reasons, and she could do nothing to stop the onslaught of contradictory feelings.

The woman gently pressed her face to his cheek, rubbing against him as a cat would scent mark a table leg, and his umbral gaze switched from Sybill to the other woman. The woman brushed her hair back from her ear with one finger as she took her right index finger between her teeth and pulled off the glove.

"We can do this the hard way or the easy way," the woman said, her eyes seeming to shift from emerald to black. The purple-black tendrils swirled from her irises, devouring the whites of her eyes and filling them with chaos.

"You _could_ tell us what you did to this witch, or—" She smiled at Trelawney, but it was not kind, "or by right of Ministry Act 32-15-X-22, witnessed by two agents—"

" _And one spider!"_ a large spider added, glowering at Sybill from the man's shoulder.

"And one spider," the woman corrected, "I will find the answer by tearing down every single wall in your mind to find out if what you did was intended to be fatal."

Sybill, very certain that Legilimens were just a myth used to frighten misbehaving children, simply raised her chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of you."

The woman reached her hand out and splayed her fingers across Sybill's face. "You needn't fear _me_ , Sybill Trelawney," the woman said, causing Sybill to startle.

How had she known her name?

"Fear what I must become if he—" She flicked her eyes to the dark-eyed man. "If _he_ decides you are better off dead."

Her fingers spread across Sybill's face like a spider and clamped across it. The woman's blackened eyes shifted to a brilliant emerald green as a wicked smile tugged at her lips. "This may… hurt a little."

Sybill screamed as the feeling of molten lava seemed to fill up her mind and spread through every nerve like wildfire.

Sybill saw the ground fall out from underneath her feet, and she was falling… falling… into the molten depths of the Earth. The gaping wound of the Earth seemed like open jaws— jagged rows of teeth formed and closed in on her, and she screamed—

Sybill was running, running—

The hounds of hell were chasing after her, their hot, stinking breath like sulfur, their bodies molten lava.

They bayed for her blood, and she continued to run.

She could never stop running.

She could never stop fleeing for her very life.

Sybill opened a closet door to see swirling black and purple vapour billow out as it formed into shining, unnaturally white teeth. Slime dripped from each fang as massive wings unfurled. Paw-hands reached for her, even as its eyes seemed to both pull in and push away. Talons of a bird rose up from the ground, reaching out to disembowel her. Feathers, scales, smooth, and rough, beast and bird, soft and hard.

" _ **Sybill,"**_ it roared. " _ **Give me a kiss, lover-girl!"**_

Sybill screamed in terror.

Eileen opened her eyes, groggy. "Severus? Is that you?"

Severus smiled at her slightly, a small tug about his lips. "Mum."

She reached for him, touching his face. "Oh my darling boy. You're all grown up."

She looked around. "I had such an awful dream. I was trapped inside a library, and no one knew who I was. Everyone _hated_ me."

"Mum," Severus said, his gaze unreadable. "What really happened when you married Tobias?"

Eileen flinched, realising that her son never considered the horrible man she had married his father. And how could he? Tobias had been a stain and chain upon her for so long…

"I had these powerful visions when I was young, and I was told to seek the advice of the family of Trelawney— Sybill being more my age. I needed to know if there was a place for my gift or if it was a curse. But one night, when we were having dinner together— I just had a drink or two, but the next thing I know, I'm waking up to Tobias on top of me and—"

"I was pregnant, Severus," she said. "I couldn't go back to my family in shame. The publicity would have killed my mother— my gran. So, I fled the Wizarding world and had you with Tobias. He was actually a good father at first, until—"

Severus narrowed his eyes.

"You couldn't help it! You were a baby! You just made your rattle float to you! He changed. He—"

Eileen winced in remembered pain. "He had accepted his responsibility for having you with me," she said, "until he realised his son would never be ' normal' and that I'd never given him a choice. He suspected me of ensorcelling him, and he was right to think so. Our trust was broken, and he never trusted me again. And you— you became a constant reminder that you'd never be one to sit and watch rugby or share a pint with him and the boys."

"He became a monster, Severus, and I know you never loved him, but he was a monster of my own making. It was my fault."

Severus' lips flattened into a thin line. "No, it was not."

"Severus, I know you think—"

"No, mum," Severus said. His wings flapped once before he folded them again. "I'm saying Sybill did all this to you to keep you from outshining her and getting a real job with a real gift. She laced your drinks with lust and fertility potions, and she orchestrated your shame so you would rather _die_ than return to the Wizarding world as a witch pregnant out of wedlock."

Hermione swept in next to them. "My apologies for the interruption," she said, unconsciously touching wings with him. She rubbed the side of her chin against his like a cat. "Ms Trelawney is finally stable after forcing the reversal of the magic she used against you, Madam Snape," she said quietly. "I have overridden Madam Pomfrey's normal care when we found you being attacked right here in the infirmary, but she will be the one caring for you now, as it is her charge and responsibility to do so."

"Severus?" Eileen asked, her eyes widening.

"My apologies, Madam Snape," Hermione said. "I am—" She looked at Severus, and he nodded.

"I am Master Healer Snape," she said, watching the woman's eyes bug out of her head. She fanned her wings out slightly, tucking one under Severus' with habitual tenderness. "You may call me Hermione, if you so wish."

As Hermione expected, Eileen's brain skipped right over master and healer and dove right into 'Snape'.

"You— you're a Snape?"

Hermione arched a brow, suppressing her mate's typical response of

" _ **Ob**_ -viously."

"Last I checked," Hermione replied with an amused smile.

" _We're Snape's too!"_ the spiders on Severus' shoulder said, bouncing. "Oh and all the hellhounds."

Tiamat growled from under the bed where she was resting.

" _Oh, and Tiamat too!"_

Eileen blinked and looked under her bed and then shot back up in the bed, going rigid. "What _**is**_ that?!"

" _Tiamat,"_ the spider replied.

" _Ob-viously,"_ the other spider said.

"Woof," one of the Gwyllgi said, tail wagging.

Eileen suppressed a shriek. "And that?"

The hellhound cocked its head at her.

" _Hell puppy,"_ the spider said. " _He likes cherry tarts."_

" _And belly rubs."_

"Why doesn't it look like— like—"

Nisha and Kyra, who had been sleeping on the nearby bed, lifted their heads. They still looked more like large-eared dobermans rather than their supernatural counterparts. Somehow she had forgotten that they were, in reality, hellhounds.

"Hello, my lovelies," Hermione said, giving the hounds affectionate rubs. They licked under her chin and began to glow, drooling magma.

"Barowl!" they greeted her, panting happily and tail wagging with enthusiasm.

"I've missed you too, loves," she said, tolerating their frantic licks and happy wriggling. "Oh, look how you've grown, you big menace," she laughed as Kyra had "grown" to her normal size to playfully "gnaw" on Hermione's head. "There now, calm down, you don't want to scare the children. And it wasn't your fault you didn't see that horrible woman drug her drink."

The Gwyllgi looked sad to have to, but they reverted to their more doberman-like forms.

The other Gwyllgi looked puzzled as they snuffled over the concealed hounds.

"I…" Eileen stammered. "Bloody useless Seer _**I**_ am. I can't even see that someone is going to drug me… a second time."

Hermione touched Severus' shoulder before turning to leave. "Do not blame yourself for not detecting another's malevolence. Such things are often hidden under much stronger traits that are far less easy to ignore. An air of bumbling innocence, for example.."

Hermione rubbed up against Severus before leaving, her robes swirling behind her wake.

Severus watched her leave, not bothering to turn back until she had fully disappeared around the corner to speak with the school's resident mediwitch.

"Severus?" Eileen whispered.

"Hn?"

"You're… married now?"

"Yes."

Eileen realised some things didn't change— her son's lack of desire to offer up more than a word or two were certainly proof of that.

"Do you— have children?"

Severus gave her an arched eyebrow worthy of a ski slope. "Indeed."

"Severus Tobias Snape!"Eileen hissed.

"That is what you named me, yes," Severus confirmed, fighting back a smirk.

Eileen, frustrated, flung her water pitcher at him, which he dodged, a tug heralding the arrival of a full-blown smirk on his lips.

" _Wow, temper,"_ the spider remarked, clinging to his hair. " _So that's where you get it from."_

Severus squooshed the cheeky spider in his hand, shoving him back under his hair.

" _LOVE HURTS!"_ the spider cried, muffled somewhat behind his hair.

"Master Snape, I need to ask you to leave my patient alone to heal!" an elder witch said, storming over with her own personal cyclone following in her wake.

"As you wish," Severus said, turning away from his mother without a word, sweeping the room with a billowing of his robes that seemed like the wings of a giant bat.

Poppy Pomfrey stared as the glowing eyed Gwyllgi raised their massive heads up from the floor and growled at her.

" _ **Master Snape!"**_ she cried.

Her shrillness caused the bed to bump as Tiamat pulled herself out from under the bed and materialised at her full height, her massive head above Poppy's.

"Emoc," Hermione said as she stood in the doorway. For a moment, Poppy thought she saw a horrifying shadow standing right behind her— writhing, tentacled, and massive. "Good day, Madam Pomfrey."

As she left, Tiamat and the Gwyllgi trailed behind her, playfully leaping and pouncing each other in play as they dipped into the floor and sprang back up.

Trembling, Poppy sat down on the bed next to Eileen.

"Is this, well, normal for you dear?" Poppy asked in a whisper.

Eileen rubbed her head. "Not for me, no. For my son— apparently so."

"What _is_ he a master of again?"

Eileen frowned. "I'm afraid I didn't think to ask." She looked at her lap. "Poppy, what exactly happened to Sybill?"

The mediwitch frowned. "Normally, I would say patient privacy is my utmost concern next to their health, but seeing as you were directly affected by her magic—"

Eileen turned to her. "What did she do to me?"

"She laced a memory charm in with a Dark aging spell— to steal your life force and make you believe you were someone else," Poppy said with a shudder. "It was vile and and selfish. Evil."

"And what did the other one— Hermione— what did _she_ do?"

Poppy frowned. "She rerouted the curses, channelling the life energy she had stolen from you and—"

"And?"

Poppy flinched. "She used, and I'm only just now realising her connection to it, Chaos Magick to to restore you."

It was Eileen's turn to frown. "What does _that_ mean?"

"It means that in order to gain the effect of healing you, some other— apparently quite random— effect took its price out of Sybill in recompense."

"I want to see her," Eileen said suddenly.

"I really don't think—"

"I have to," Eileen protested. "I need to know."

"She won't be able to hurt you anymore," Poppy assured her. "You don't need to see—"

"I _do_ need to see it, Poppy. Please." Eileen gave her a haunted look. "She destroyed my life. She gave my son a father who never asked for him, me, or a son— she turned Tobias into an alcoholic monster in order to cope with exposure to magic that he never had himself and could never understand. She shamed me into fleeing from my own family."

Poppy sighed and stood. "Alright."

The mediwitch lead her into a solitary isolation room, one with a door that was heavily warded to the point that no-one and nothing could pass through the room unaccompanied by Pomfrey herself.

_**SLAM!** _

_**SCRRRRREEEKKKKKKKHISSS!** _

Sybill threw herself violently against the warded barrier, her eyes bulging and huge— very inhuman. Her fingers were twisted, gnarled sticks that were grossly swollen at the joints. Her face was heavily wrinkled like someone well over a hundred. Her hair was tangled and half-torn away from her scalp, dark blood oozing from where she had ripped it out.

" _ **The Dark Lord comes! AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAH!"**_ Sybill cried out, cackling insanely. Then, like a switch had been flipped, she flopped down onto the floor, sucking her thumb, humming nursery rhymes, wrapping her arms about her knees and rocking back and forth.

A crown of vapourous bats swirled around her head and dove into her ears and emerged out the other way, transforming into canaries, then circling around to dive in again, returning the original bat shape. Then, suddenly, they massed on her head in the form of a squid, the feeder tentacles burrowing deep into her ear canals.

Sybill cackled and attempted to use her magic, but it surged out of her as a shower of multi coloured confetti, covering the room in glitter and sending sparkling rainbow unicorns prancing around the room and farting rainbow clouds.

Eileen turned away slowly and walked away. "Thank _Merlin_ ," she whispered, walking back to her bed and tucking herself in, patting the bed so Nisha and Kyra leapt up to join her and then she closed her eyes to blissful, dreamless Oblivion.

Poppy Pomfrey sighed as she tried to wrestle with the treatment for Eileen, which tread the line between saving the patient and standing strong on medical ethics. On one side, had someone _not_ done something, Eileen would be brainwashed, aged, and disfigured all for one woman's selfish desires. On the other hand, Chaos Magick was by its very nature, unpredictable and dangerous. There was no way that this healer— master or not— could have predicted the effects on Sybill Trelawney.

So what was right?

If not doing what she did had condemned Eileen to a shriveled, broken existence even after having already lived a verifiably miserable life, how was that any better than letting Sybill harm her in the first place?

Truth be told, had Master Healer Hermione Snape not pulled rank on her, Poppy would never have allowed her to treat Eileen— and Eileen would now be a shriveled, pitiful shell of a woman.

What did that make her?

Poppy scratched her head frantically. She didn't know, and she had the sinking feeling she would not know how she truly felt about it for quite some time.

Her mind focused on the baleful eyes of those, those— creatures.

What was a healer doing with fearsome beasts like that? Yet, a part of her couldn't help but notice that the beasts hadn't done anything more than growl a warning to her before prancing off after their mistress like a pack of playful hounds, having not disturbed anyone in the infirmary while going on their way.

Where did the line of karma turn to retribution, and if Master Healer Hermione Snape _did_ walk that line, was it even possible that what happened to Sybill Trelawney was, in fact, exactly what she deserved for her vile actions?

Poppy sat down and drank her tea down to the leaves at the bottom. She stared at it and shoved it away with a shudder.

There, in the bottom of her cup, were the many tentacles of an octopus, splayed out in the form of a chaos star.

* * *

_**Former Hogwarts Headmaster Found Guilty of Forcible Transfiguration and Mind Manipulation** _

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was found guilty of multiple accounts of mind and memory charms and forcible transfiguration of Minerva McGonagall, his one-time apprentice, colleague, and Deputy Headmistress._

_Alas, when authorities attempted to collect him for memory collection, Mr Dumbledore was found barely clinging to life._

_Headmistress McGonagall was reunited with her one-time fiancé, who had waited the past fifty-plus years for her return, having never believed her subsequent career at Hogwarts to be anything more than indentured service._

_When the healers attempted to stabilise Mr. Dumbledore, his body shook violently as what the healers thought to be the very last dregs of his magic seemed to abruptly leave his body, and he aged and shriveled before their very eyes. Clutched in his gnarled hands was a signed confession, written in his own blood._

_It wasn't until Headmistress McGonagall and Master Manfred Morgan of the Ministry stood in front of the Wizengamot and were bowled over by a blast of two separate magical essences that the connection was made as to what Mr Dumbledore had released at the moment of his death._

_Both McGonagall and Morgan had been deaged to approximately their mid-twenties right before the assembled Wizengamot._

_As for the second blast, no one is quite sure where it came from, only that the results of it have seemingly given back the time lost to both Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and Master Morgan._

_Mr Dumbledore will remain housed in St Mungo's until which time as he can be relied upon to survive in Azkaban to serve out his sentence._

* * *

Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of the addition of one Minerva McGonagall to their "family dynamic" but Master Morgan seemed much happier. Harry was still getting his undivided attention during his lessons—

It was in those moments, with his stomach tied in knots, that he realised he was rather jealous. Always before, he and Dudley had their master's undivided attention and did not have to share him with anyone else. His own parents couldn't even give them that— so a part of him believed if there was a woman involved, all that attention would go away.

"You're such an idiot," Salvius said with a sniff, jerking Harry's head down as if to rub his nose into his own stench. "Mum and Dad love each other _and_ us, and you never think they love you any less."

Harry flushed, reddening. Salvius, as always, spoke in candor, and he always made Harry feel like a true— dunderhead.

_**Bonk!** _

Hedwig whapped her brother over the head with one snowy white wing. "Leave Harry alone. He can't help being somewhat clingy."

Harry slumped, again. Hedwig, meaning well enough, was just as blunt as her brother. They were both ahead of their age, just like their parents, and Harry always felt like trying to strive to leave their shadow would be futile.

Dudley stuffed a shortbread biscuit into Harry's mouth. "Stop thinking so loudly, Harry," he said. "You know you adore those little batlings as much as anyone could."

Harry jerked his head up in surprise. How was it that everyone knew him so well and he was always well and truly confused?

"Uncle Harry!"

_**THUMP!** _

A young batling clung to his chest, rubbing their face into his chest and neck.

_**THUD.** _

_**SHUNK.** _

_**CRRK.** _

Batlings clung to each one of them, overly excited and as affectionate as always.

Harry felt his heart melt all over again, and he put aside his insecurities to groom the young batling.

It had been five years since Minerva McGonagall had "joined the family" and the batlings had come shortly after, staggered only by a little time in between. Even with his insecurity when he was alone to his thoughts, it all went away when he had one of the little blighters clinging to his body.

Selena was the oldest, and she loved on her "uncle" since almost the first day— when the dragon-bat pup had been passed around to all the "relatives". While all the batlings seemed to be in awe of the elders, some with a little fearful respect, they bonded tightly to Harry, Dudley, Salvius, and Hedwig. They hadn't really shown as much interest to Harry's other family, though, or the Weasleys.

Harry shuddered.

Molly Weasley kept trying to shove her youngest son to hang out with Harry, and he didn't really like the other boy, close in age or no. Ronald went to Hogwarts, and that was never even an option for Harry, at least in his own mind. Everything he loved and cared for was at the DoM, and he wouldn't give up his apprenticeship and partnership with Dudley for anything.

Ron, on the other hand, kept trying to convince Harry of the merits of Quidditch, trading cards, and the buffet table during the Sunday brunches in the Ministry atrium gatherings.

Harry wasn't sure what to think, really. Ronald seemed like an okay enough bloke, but he wasn't interested in looking after the batlings or studying in the atrium with him, Dudley, or the Snape twins. If anything, he seemed more than a little jealous of them— or rather, their cool wings.

"Oi! Leggo!" the ginger-haired boy yelled, trying to wrestle his pumpkin pasty away from a hungry batling.

The young batling snarled playfully, sinking his teeth into the tasty food, using his wings to pry himself out of Ron's grip.

"Bruce," Harry warned.

The young dragon-bat pouted. He let go of the still-warm wedge of pumpkin goodness and let it smack Ron soundly in the face with the recoil. He flung himself into the air, did a loop-de-loop and then landed on Harry's back. "Hi Uncle!"

"Hello, Bruce," Harry said with a chuckle.

"You have a zit on your nose, uncle," the batling helpfully informed him as his brother, Robert, flew over to join them. Dudley snickered with their sister, Selene, and the female dragon-bat let out a fang-toothed yawn and placed her head on top of Dudley's mop of hair.

"Si ereht a melborp ni ereh?" Cthulhu's voice rumbled over the chuckling and sniggering.

Ronald's eyes went the size of twin galleons, and he promptly passed out cold with a terrified wheeze.

Harry grinned. "You're the _**bestest**_ , Master Cthulhu," he crowed with delight as the batlings launched themselves onto the Elder God for hugs and tentacle snuggles.

Cthulhu seemed to blush, his tentacles taking on a distinctly rosy hue.

Severus swept in from somewhere, as he always did, silent and unnerving like he'd cast a silencing charm on his boots. He wasn't quite sure how he did it, and he'd even checked the boots for charms— with no luck. Severus stared down at the unconscious Ronald Weasley. "Someone may wish to clean… that—" The word "thing" was silent. "Up."

Minerva, who was walking beside him curled one lip with a creased brow added to the mix. "Whatever is wrong with that boy?"

Harry and Dudley shook their heads together as the batlings mirrored them identically.

"Selene, Bruce, Robert," Minerva said, clapping her hands. "Time for lunch. Don't keep your Aunt Hermione waiting."

"Yay!" the batlings cheered, flying off in a blur of wingbeats.

Harry and Dudley took out their wands and pointed them at Ronald, levitating him and dragging him along behind without touching him. "Come along then, idiot," Dudley muttered.

* * *

"This is excellent, Aunt Hermione!" the batlings cheered as they raced to use their chopsticks with the bowls of sticky rice and the serving platters of teriyaki octopus and barbecued squid.

Hermione chuckled as Severus used chopsticks to feed his mate some salmon sashimi, and she smiled at him in appreciation.

"You can thank Auror Moody for the lunch, my lovelies," she said. "He knows a man who knows a man… "

The children grinned together, happily indulging in the food. Ron had come to only to immediately bolt from the room, making a beeline for the loo, looking quite green.

"Such an odd child," Minerva said, contentedly sipping a fragrant cup of jasmine tea. "Not like his older siblings at _all_."

"Heyyyyyyyyyyy," the Weasley twins poked their ginger heads around the corner. "We smelled lunch."

"You two," Minerva tutted. "You always think with your stomachs."

"Well, yeah," Fred and George answered. "They're always empty."

"Because we're starving."

"All the time!"

Hermione waved one hand indulgently. "Sit, sit, there's plenty for you two as well," she said, rolling her eyes in amusement.

"Can't help it, Auntie," the twins chimed.

"Mum was making mashed neeps and boiled sprouts _again_."

The batlings wrinkled their noses, ears twitching in distaste.

"Exactly."

Hedwig eyed the direction of the loo, shaking her head. "Why are we friends with that one again?"

Salvius shrugged. "Social graces."

"I'd rather be antisocial."

"Awww," the batlings pouted.

"Present company excluded."

"Yay!"

" _Yay!"_ the spider said, bouncing up and down.

"Woof," the Gwyllgi agreed.

Tiamat yawned toothily, lolling her tongue, as a tendril of chaos snagged a piece of tuna sashimi and drew it to her mouth.

" _That's hardly fair,_ " one spider said.

" _Sheesh,"_ another said.

Hermione set a piece down for the spiders, and they swarmed it, clearly enjoying the seafood feast.

"You spoil them," Severus noted.

"We both do," Hermione said with a smile.

"Hn," he replied.

"Ack, I brought the smoked trout," Alastor said as he shambled in. "And this sorry arse," he continued, shoving Kingsley in by the collar. "He was driving me nuts in the DMLE, making all my Aurors look like a bunch of ruddy idiots."

Kingsley wore his very best halo, tarnished as it was. He waved two bottles of Ogden's best non-alcoholic pear cider that he'd brought to share with the family.

"Happy Anniversary, you two," Alastor said, sitting himself down.

"You remembered," Hermione gushed, smiling.

"Psh, of course I did," he said, laughing. "I'm sure you'll have a fantastic shindig later tonight with all the official folk, but I'll be off arresting Dark wizards and feeding their brains to Master Cthulhu here."

"Ytsat," Cthulhu said with approval, sipping his tea.

"No brain-eating at the luncheon table, if you please," Minerva tutted, wiping her youngest's face off with a napkin. Robert sputtered, making a wrinkled face at his mum.

Bruce and Selene giggled at him, decidedly unsympathetic.

Dudley eyed the last piece of octopus sashimi and snatched it with his chopsticks just before Harry could. Hedwig and Salvius shook their heads together.

"How do you feel being two years free of Hogwarts, Minerva?" Alastor asked. "The war memorial festival is happening in a few weeks. I saw your name on the list to be honoured."

Minerva shrugged. "I am glad to be with my real family again, Alastor. I don't think that even begins to describe it. I know that I cared for the children, even liked my job there, but—"

"I know, lass," Alastor said. "But you got your second chance with the old-now-young dragon-bat, eh?"

Manfred gave his wife a fond kiss on the cheek. "Mmhmm."

Harry and Dudley rolled their eyes together. "Ugh, Master."

Manfred laughed. "You'll understand, one day, boys."

"I hope not," the two partners swore together. "Girls are _evil_."

Hedwig smacked them both over the head with one well-placed wing swat.

"See!" Harry bemoaned, holding his nose.

Salvius drank his tea. "You are a dunderhead."

Harry wilted. "One day, I _will_ win one of these arguments!"

Dudley punched his shoulder. "Doubtful."

"Whose side are you on?"

"Reality, cousin," Dudley said with a cheeky smile.

Harry sulked. "I _hate_ reality."

The masters all exchanged amused looks.

Manfred and Kings shook their heads together. "You will find that it has a habit of sneaking up on you, regardless of how prepared you think you are."

Harry shook his head adamantly. "No way.

There was a soft knock on the door.

Hedwig bolted up. "Mum, Felicity is here to study with me. May I be excused?"

"Of course, dear," Hermione said, her wings ruffling.

Hedwig practically flung her dishes in a wash of cleaning magic and set them to rights in the rack before opening the door.

A golden-furred cat-girl with glowing green eyes and tufted ears peeked into the room. "Hedwig?"

"Who else, silly, psh," Hedwig said, dragging the girl in by the paw. "Time to study. Master Garibaldi is testing us on signing tomorrow."

"Okay, but are we studying here or the atriiiaaa _ **AHHHHHHHHHH**_ m?" she cried out as Hedwig spread her wings and shot out the door at top speed, taking the frantic feline-girl with her.

Harry stared at the place where Felicity had been, his eyes very wide and swimming with invisible fish.

Kingsley shook his head slowly. "It begins."

Dudley groaned, screwing up his face in disapproval.

* * *

Severus dipped into the hot springs and cuddled in behind his beloved wife, pouring the citrus-scented shampoo she loved into his palms and then began rubbing it into her damp hair. She purred at his touch, making soft sounds of appreciation. Dipping her head into the water to rinse, he snorted as the spiders lathered themselves up and took turns diving into the springs too, the Gwyllgi laying around watching with curious amusement.

Finally, many years later, their children had fledged, moving on to become their own masters. Salvius had found himself magical Britain's top up-and-coming Master of Potions, and Hedwig was perhaps the brightest young Arithmancer the DoM had seen in ages. Both were doing themselves proud, even taking apprentices of their own both in and out of the DoM.

Harry and Dudley had become a fine pair of Aurors, having been whipped into shape by Alastor Moody into the kind of team that made the old Scotsman swear that Kingsley had sent them to him just to rattle his cage and make everyone else look the fool.

Minerva's post-Hogwarts work with object-based glamours allowed for many of the children to choose their places of education, yet much to her surprise, very few chose Hogwarts or any other magical school over the apprentice system in place in the DoM. Still, it did help the adults later when it came to "blending in" to Muggle and magical areas when they weren't always good at casting such spells themselves.

Kingsley and Manfred had new apprentices again, and many thought that they were incapable of not being busy— as if peace and quiet just never happened. Minerva found it terribly amusing, never doubting the friendship between the two wizards or feeling jealous. Manfred always made time for Minerva, just as he did for his batlings.

Bruce had moved to the States to work with their crack team of night Aurors who specialised in tracking and tracing Dark Wizards using combinations of magic, cyber-magic, and what Minerva called "kung-fu fighting." Minerva said it was like being a hit wizard and then some.

Selene—

It was hard to say exactly _what_ Selene was. She was a social climber, but she had this strange drive to "rob the rich" and funnel the rewards to the poor and downtrodden. No one could ever track her down with proof, but her family noted that every where in the world she travelled, the news would have tabloids of so and so having some financial tragedy while someone else who had been on hard times suddenly gained miraculous windfalls.

As for Robert, he had become a world-famous cursebreaker, archaeologist, and the author of several popular books detailing his many great adventures. He was currently heading a team from Gringotts charged with the excavation and exploration of a newly-discovered Mayan temple hidden deep within the dense rainforest jungles of Belize.

Severus grabbed the inlaid hairbrush in his hands— the heirloom that had never once been abused— and brushed Hermione's hair. He smiled as she almost purred in response to his attentions. He was happy that the children had fledged and become successful in their own right, but he was even happier that he and his wife could now focus fully on enjoying their own lives together at last.

No apprentices, no children, and no more drama.

Their night flights together had once had some chiropterologist thinking the second coming of the megabat had hit Europe one night, and it was Eileen and her crack team of Seer-Obliviators that both foresaw and kept that from becoming a serious problem. Her team had sharply reduced the number of Muggle-magical incidents throughout Britain.

Strangely, no one ever reported their pastries and pasties being stolen by enormous, molten hounds or a chaos beast playing fetch in the museums.

As Severus spread the oily-waxen feather conditioner over her feathers, Hermione sighed with relief, and after a few minutes of pleasurable fluttering of her wings, she returned the favour, washing his hair, brushing it, and then grooming his wings. It was just as it had always been since the very first day they had found themselves living together in the forest.

Long gone were the days when they had huddled together in the shower, too scared to let anyone separate them, even for a wash. Longer still was the fear and loathing they had shared of their respective family situations. The Dark Lord had risen and fallen, screaming in the deep, dark chasm where Chaos and Elder Magick met— yet utterly silent to those who had not known of it personally.

The Wizarding and Muggle worlds went on as ever, oblivious to the acts both small and vast— whether it be a Dark Lord or a Master of Manipulation. Had they known, perhaps, they would have fled screaming from the tentacled shadow of an Elder God who just happened to give spectacular head massages when he wasn't devouring the brains of the deserving.

No one _dared_ ask how he determined "deserving" either.

While Hermione's relationship to her parents and her sister Lily had at least become something salvageable, Petunia and Vernon had never quite recovered. Insanity was now the only thing they shared— well, that and a padded room after having escaped from their respective accommodations and gone on the "loose" in downtown London, beating bewildered people about the head with random objects while screaming about alien brain-eaters at the top of their lungs.

Well, you couldn't win them all, he supposed.

As they dried off and headed to their comfy nesting bowl, Hermione performed her evening routine of digging the pillows and duvet around until it was just right for sleeping, not satisfied until it was perfect.

Severus never knew what signalled "perfection" to her because to him, it looked like quite a mess. It was comfy like a cloud to sleep on though, he'd give her that.

As he pulled her to him, spooning against her back as he pressed his face into her fragrant curls, his wings wrapped around her body, she pulled the duvet over them with a contented sigh, even as the spiders scurried around to fill in the small spaces, the Gwyllgi the larger spaces, and Tiamat taking up the edge of the bowl after having turned in place three times in one direction and then another.

Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could still smell the earthen loam of the forest of long ago and hear the distant rush of water.

"I love you," Hermione murmured, and it never once failed to cause a shiver to go down his spine— a pleasure so fine that it sent shocks through every nerve.

He rumbled, holding her snugly. "I love you," he replied, feeling that mutual contentment resonate between them as they welcomed sleep together— a well-earned sleep of two grown Wishkin that had found each other and their place in life.

Through hardship and peace, they had always had each other, and they always would.

On the old cherry dresser, the worn, inlaid hairbrush lay on top, shimmering with satisfied magic— there to witness the lives of the two who shared their life and love together. If one listened closely, they could almost hear the soft laughter of winged children and the low woofs of the Gwyllgi as the light shimmered across the inlaid mother of pearl.

* * *

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Fin.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

* * *

Somewhere, Ronald Weasley, keeper for the Chudley Cannons, wakes up screaming from a nightmare where he was chased by giant spiders on brooms, all sporting a crown of octopus tentacles on their heads— Master Cthulhu looking on as he sips his favourite green tea latte with a wicked, alien smile.

* * *

**A/N:** I just… can't help myself. Even when Ron isn't in the same timeline, he still ends up getting it in the teeth. Sorry (not sorry!).

Thanks to my lovely betas who slave over my inability to write coherent sentences at any time of day or night. Hope you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it. (It keeps my betas from turning feral and sprouting fangs and claws and chasing me!)


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